


Ich Schenk' Dir Die Welt

by San Antonio Rose (ramblin_rosie)



Category: Girl Genius (Webcomic), Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Coffee, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Cross-Posted on LiveJournal, Discussion of attempted non-con, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, International Oversight Advisory (Stargate), Jossed, Lucrezia being horrible, cloning, discussion of mind control
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-07
Updated: 2016-03-25
Packaged: 2021-03-18 10:27:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 65,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29981472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ramblin_rosie/pseuds/San%20Antonio%20Rose
Summary: Out of time, options, and hope, Gil tries to shut down the time stop with a desperate move that has fatal consequences. Yet because the Red Cathedral's portal is still open on the Mechanicsburg end, the shockwave throws a copy of Agatha's abduction party across time, space, and dimensions--into Atlantis. What will it take for Agatha, Violetta, and Krosp to get home? What will it take to prevent the time stop and save Gil, Mechanicsburg, and theGirl Geniusuniverse from annihilation? And in the meantime, how will the Pegasus Galaxy cope with even a friendly Heterodyne invasion?
Relationships: Agatha Heterodyne & Krosp, Agatha Heterodyne & Tarvek Sturmvoraus, Agatha Heterodyne & Violetta Mondarev, Agatha Heterodyne/Gilgamesh "Gil" Wulfenbach, Amelia Banks/Ronon Dex, Samantha "Sam" Carter/Jack O'Neill, Teyla Emmagan/John Sheppard





	1. Part 1: Hypotheses and Theories, Chapter 1: Through A Door

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to my stellar betas jennytork and immortal_jedi, whose help has been invaluable!

_Ich schenk’ Dir die Welt, den Mond, die Sterne,  
Hol’ die Sonne für Dich her.  
(I’d give you the world, the moon, the stars,  
Fetch the sun down for you.)  
—Die Prinzen_

_To the world, you may be just another girl,  
But to me, baby, you are the world.  
—Brad Paisley_

Part 1  
Hypotheses and Theories

Chapter 1  
Through a Door

_Four years. Four accursed years, totally alone yet never left alone. The Wulfenbach Empire crumbling about his ears, The Other resurgent, von Blitzengaard as her puppet playing the Storm King, people dying faster than he could save them, and always, always, his father’s copied consciousness battering his mind, overruling his choices, usurping his actions, keeping him locked away in his own head and unable even to speak to his only friend, his one love._

_He and sanity had parted ways long ago, shortly after sleep had abandoned him. By now, he no longer cared. Even if the insomnia and the loss of Agatha hadn’t been enough to break him, his failure to save Sturmvoraus would have been the final straw. Yes, Agatha lived and had escaped both the time stop and von Blitzengaard, but he would never hold her in his arms again. His father had seen to that. But Sturmvoraus, once best friend and fiercest rival, had crumbled to dust in his hands, in spite of everything, and only the demands of state had forced him to survive that loss. Well, physically, he survived. His mind was a lost cause; he couldn’t let his heart be broken yet again. It was easier this way, to abandon hope and embrace the madness, not to wait for help that was sure now to come too late._

_For time had run out. The extradimensional horror was nearly to Mechanicsburg, the one miserable place in all Europa he still stood even the slightest chance of saving. He’d gotten most of the people out in one piece, he thought, though they’d disappeared shortly afterward; that must have been the Jägers’ doing, but he had no way of knowing whether The Other had managed to find them. And he couldn’t worry about it now. Castle Heterodyne, which had presided over centuries of terror until Bill and Barry Heterodyne had forsaken the ways of their ancestors and turned to heroism instead, was in too much of a panic to calculate how many days remained until the great beast arrived, and what would happen then was beyond anyone’s power to guess. Every other solution had proven to be a dead end. He had no choice—the device his father had used to stop time in Mechanicsburg had to be shut down now. Lacking any better option, he was readying his death ray to shoot the thing out of his father’s hand._

_The plan was mad. He knew that. But sometimes madness was the only path to take, despair the only choice. And he had to try to save Agatha’s city for her—especially since he couldn’t save himself._

_Running footsteps through the time tunnel behind him, a buzz like the rush of the Dyne beneath his skin, forcing cool clarity through the fevered haze that had settled over him years ago. No one else, not even Sturmvoraus, had ever had that effect on him. No one else was mad enough to come so near him now, after everything, knowing what he had done, was capable of doing, was about to do._

_“Gil! Stop!”_

_Only Agatha still called him that. Still dared to hope for him when he had no hope for himself. His other friends were dead or fled, and everyone else called him only ‘Herr Baron.’ Some days he wasn’t sure he’d ever had another name, ever had a self apart from his father._

_He didn’t turn, couldn’t give his father the chance to take over, to stop him or attack her. “Agatha, we’re out of time.” His voice was dull and hoarse, frayed and ragged, like his psyche, like the clothes he’d forgotten to change out of for the last month. But at least it was his own... for the moment._

_“Listen to me! Dr. Zardilev’s made a breakthrough. He thinks there could be disastrous consequences if we don’t shut the device down properly.”_

_“There_ will _be disastrous consequences if I don’t shut it down_ now _.” He took aim and put his finger on the trigger._

_“No, Gil, WAIT!”_

_He would never know by whose will his finger moved._

* * *

“Unscheduled offworld activation!”

Lt. Col. John Sheppard, who was in Stargate Ops to try to drag Dr. Rodney McKay away from some diagnostic or other he was working on with Dr. Radek Zelenka and get some lunch into him before his blood sugar bottomed out, looked up at the alert shouted by Gate technician Chuck Campbell. “Raise the Gate shield,” John ordered.

Chuck pressed the button to raise the force field that protected the Stargate against intruders, but the control panel beeped negatively at him. “It won’t engage, sir.”

John frowned at Rodney. “McKay—”

“ _Not_ our fault,” Rodney replied immediately. “We haven’t taken anything offline, and we’re working on a completely different system.”

John huffed in annoyance and tapped his radio earpiece. “This is Sheppard. Security to the Gateroom.”

With a _kawhoosh_ , the wormhole connected.

Chuck shook his head. “No IDC, shield’s still down.”

“Colonel!” yelped Sgt. Amelia Banks, staring at her laptop. “Reading a weird energy signature from the wormhole!”

“I see it,” said Rodney, studying his own. “— _Huh_. That looks like—”

“And yet unlike,” Zelenka agreed. “Further afield than merely another dimension, perhaps, and encountering another energy field—”

“Similar to a solar flare. We’ll need more analysis to be sure—”

“Later,” John snapped as security teams hustled into the Gateroom. “What’s comin’ through?”

“How am I supposed to know that?!” Rodney snapped back, looking up at him. “It could be....”

It _was_ , in fact, what looked like a fight in progress—three humans and a white cat in a red uniform coat, from what John could make out, all struggling against each other as they hurtled through the Gate at high velocity before landing hard halfway across the Gateroom as the wormhole disconnected.

“OOF!” cried... four voices.

Something fuzzy and orange with pointed ears and a pointed muzzle poked its startled head out of the hair of the bespectacled blonde who forced herself up off the pile first. “ _Ce... ce a_ fost _asta?_ ” she gasped, putting a gloved hand to her head and looking around the room in shock.

“ _Rumuna_ ,” Zelenka murmured, surprised, as he followed John and Rodney to the top of the Gateroom stairs. “ _Z Sedmihradsko!_ ”

John frowned at him in confusion as the big guy with ridiculously red hair replied to the blonde. “What was that?”

“The girl—she is Romanian, from Transylvania. I had friends from Sibiu at university; I know the accent.”

“ _Engelz!_ ” she cried suddenly, apparently spotting a British flag on someone’s uniform or something, and flung herself away from the big guy, hands raised. “Please help! I have been kidnapped!”

“Shhh, Agatha!” hissed the cat, scrambling after her with its ears back.

The girl—Agatha?—said something else in Romanian, and the purple-clad person who’d been at the bottom of the pile shoved the big guy off of... her, yes, that was clearly a female figure, and crawled quickly to Agatha’s side. This second girl had shaggy hair the same unnatural red as the big guy’s, but it looked like she was trying to put as much distance between herself and him as she could without getting shot.

“She lies!” boomed the big guy, unwisely jolting to his feet and ignoring the P-90s that immediately trained on him. “I am Martellus von Blitzengaard. Seize her!”

“ _I_ am in command here,” John barked, charging down the Gateroom steps with Rodney and Zelenka on his heels. “And until I get some explanations, nobody’s goin’ anywhere.”

Von Blitzengaard rounded on him. “That is how you address the Storm King?!”

“Listen, buddy, I don’t know you from Adam. And whatever authority you think you’ve got back home, it won’t wash here.”

“Silence, minion!”

“That’s _Lieutenant Colonel_ Minion to you, fathead!”

“I like this guy,” the cat said to Agatha—in English, apparently intending John to hear it.

“Why, you insolent _maggot!_ ” von Blitzengaard snarled and reached for something in his jacket. But the dagger he grabbed fell from his hand when a familiar _whreePOW_ heralded a bolt of red light that struck his back and sent him to the floor, stunned.

“Be careful,” the girl in purple cautioned as John started to reach for the dagger. “That may be poisoned, and he may have more.”

John nodded. “Gotcha. Thanks. Rivers?” he added, motioning the Marines forward to see to von Blitzengaard while he cautiously picked the dagger up by the handle.

Sgt. Rivers himself took charge of the dagger. “I’ll get this to the tox lab right away, sir.”

“Thanks.”

But Agatha, when John turned to her, was focused on Ronon Dex, who was shouldering past the Marines to join John. “That is a wonderful death ray,” she said, pointing to his pistol-shaped blaster as the purple girl helped her to her feet.

“Glad you like it,” Ronon rumbled. “Can’t let you have one.”

She nodded, suddenly looking drained. “I... I understand.” She swayed, and the purple girl caught her.

“Hey, whoa,” said John. “You all right?”

Agatha nodded again, putting an arm across the purple girl’s shoulders. “I am very tired and hungry, and I need a bath, but that is not his fault.” She took a deep breath. “Forgive me, Colonel. Introductions. I am Agatha Heterodyne. This is Violetta,” she added, indicating the purple girl, “and this is Krosp,” meaning the cat.

“John Sheppard,” John replied. “This is Dr. Rodney McKay, Dr. Radek Zelenka, and the guy with the death ray is Ronon Dex.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“And what’s that thing?” Rodney asked, pointing to the orange creature on Agatha’s shoulder.

“Oh! Ah, a wasp eater. They detect slaver wasps.”

The wasp eater, meanwhile, was sniffing in John’s general direction but chirruped happily and wound around Agatha’s neck to get a better view of the security team remaining behind her. That in turn gave John a good look at its eight-legged weasel-like body.

“Guess I check out,” John stated.

Agatha nodded. “Is good. Sorry, has been a very long day.”

The wasp eater chirruped at the security team but then made a curious noise as Richard Woolsey, the civilian head of the Atlantis expedition, hurried in. Woolsey had been off in another part of the city sorting out some sort of squabble among the botanists, and apparently he’d just now gotten free.

“Col. Sheppard!” he said. “What’s going on?”

“Got some unexpected visitors, sir,” John replied, “but so far everything’s under control. Had to send one guy to the brig. Still tryin’ to get the story from the ladies here. This is Miss—”

“ _Lady_ Agatha Heterodyne,” Violetta corrected. “I am her guard; my name is Violetta Mondarev. And this is Krosp, emperor of all cats.”

“Richard Woolsey,” Woolsey returned. “I’m the head of this expedition. Welcome to Atlantis.”

Agatha’s green eyes went wide. “At—At—” Then they rolled back in her head, and she collapsed against Violetta.

“Oh, dear,” said Woolsey as Rodney radioed for a medical team.

“Yeah, we hadn’t gotten that far yet,” John stated with a grimace.

“My lady did not faint,” Violetta replied severely, ignoring the wasp eater as it ran across to sit on her head. “She has not eaten since last night and has not slept since Monday night.”

Agatha snored as if in agreement.

“Why not?” Woolsey asked. “What happened?”

Violetta sighed. “It is a long story, but....”

“Mechanicsburg was under siege,” Krosp interrupted. “Agatha had to get Castle Heterodyne repaired to save the city.”

“Which she did, and then... _Tweedle_ happened.”

Woolsey blinked. “Tweedle?”

“My cousin Martellus.”

“That’s the guy we sent to the brig, sir,” John explained.

“There was some kind of craft coming down from Castle Wulfenbach....”

“Which is an airship,” Krosp put in, seeing their confused frowns. “And while we were trying to figure out what it was, von Blitzengaard grabbed Agatha. She fought him, and we gave chase.”

“He threw a knife at my cousin Tarvek,” Violetta continued, “who is the _real_ Storm King, no matter what Tweedle tells you. And he dragged Agatha to this doorway in the cathedral. The abbess had activated it somehow. But... something happened just as we came through, and... now we are here.”

Zelenka asked her something in Russian, and she shook her head and replied in kind. “This is not a linguistic problem,” he translated. “She truly doesn’t know what went wrong.”

Woolsey frowned. “Forgive me, Lady Mondarev, but where is Mechanicsburg?”

Violetta blinked. “You do not know? It is in Europa—Transylvania.”

“On Earth?”

“Yes.” She paused. “We are not... on Mars or something, are we?”

“Or something,” John quipped.

The medical team arrived just then, and while they dealt with Agatha, John waved Woolsey and Ronon over to huddle with Rodney and Zelenka. “Tell him what you guys found,” he ordered Rodney.

“We detected an energy signature in the wormhole,” Rodney told Woolsey. “It’s similar to what we saw in other cases when we’ve encountered visitors from other realities.”

Zelenka nodded. “Yes, but interlaced with something like the signature in a wormhole that’s been affected by a solar flare. From what von Blitzengaard was saying, he expected the wormhole to open someplace where he was known. So something must have interfered with the wormhole to redirect it here.”

“Yeah, and maybe the combination of all that triggered the shield program’s back door or something. We’ll need to look at that later.”

Woolsey frowned. “So you’re saying they may be from another time as well as another universe?”

Zelenka shrugged. “It’s possible.”

“But solar flares don’t do that, do they?”

“Not normally, no,” Rodney confirmed. “We’ll need to study the data more carefully, but it’s probably got something to do with whatever was happening outside the cathedral while von Blitzengaard was kidnapping Lady Heterodyne inside.”

“So what do we do?” Ronon asked.

Woolsey sighed. “I don’t know yet. We need more information. Dr. McKay, Dr. Zelenka, you work on analyzing that energy signature, see if you can work out a way for them to get back. Col. Sheppard, perhaps you could ask Teyla to get Lady Heterodyne’s side of the story once she’s awake. And I suppose you or I should interrogate this von Blitzengaard.”

John’s eyes narrowed. “How ’bout we let _Todd_ do it?”

Ronon chuckled evilly. He had never entirely gotten along with the Wraith who had been their uneasy ally before circumstances had forced Todd to join the Atlantis expedition after accepting a gene therapy that eliminated his need to feed on humans, but even Ronon knew the advantages of the creep factor Todd would bring to the table.

“It would be more diplomatic for me to go first,” Woolsey noted.

“Diplomacy means nothing to von Blitzengaard,” Krosp stated from somewhere around John’s knee, and John looked down to see the cat standing on its hind legs between him and Woolsey, front paws clasped like hands behind its back. “You should have seen the way he showed up at Mechanicsburg, _supposedly_ to help Agatha. He waltzed in with a few dozen war clanks and declared himself—completely oblivious to the fact that he was walking right into the baron’s trap. And even when the trap was revealed, he still acted like he was going to win the entire battle himself. Same thing after the battle; Castle Heterodyne was what actually broke the siege, but von Blitzengaard acted like he had saved Agatha single-handed.” Krosp shook his head, and his ears went back. “He is dumb as a post and has the manners of a hyena. But he is also a spark, so do not underestimate him.”

“A spark?” Woolsey echoed.

Krosp nodded and pointed to Rodney and Zelenka. “Like these two.”

Rodney and Zelenka looked at each other in surprise. “I thought you said he was stupid,” said Rodney.

“The two are not mutually exclusive. One can be brilliant in his own field and a blithering idiot in every other way.”

Rodney tried not to look insulted. Zelenka tried not to laugh.

For his part, John shot Krosp a knowing look. “And Agatha?”

Krosp drew himself up to his full height and glared up at John. “Agatha is a Heterodyne and a strong spark. She is brilliant at everything except politics and romance. And I am her liege lord and want to know what plans you have for her.”

“I think that depends on whether we can find a way for you all to go home,” Woolsey cautioned. “She’ll be in Isolation until she’s cleared medically. That’s standard practice here. After that, if we can send you back, we’ll do so. If not... well, you say she’s a scientist. Part of our mission here is scientific. We may be able to find a position for her.”

Krosp studied him for a moment, then nodded once. “I like you, too.” And with that, he stalked away after the medics, who were wheeling Agatha off to Isolation.

Woolsey blinked. “Did he really say he’s Lady Heterodyne’s liege lord?”

“Dogs have owners,” Rodney deadpanned. “Cats have staff. They don’t normally talk, though.”

Ronon shook his head. “Your planet’s weird.”

John snorted in amusement.

* * *

Martellus woke on a hard bench in a cell made of... not so much bars as rough-hewn horizontal slats of metal. There was space enough between them that getting a hand through to pick the lock would be child’s play. But picking the lock itself might not be—he realized with a start that he’d been stripped while he was unconscious and was now not only weaponless and armorless but clad only in the rough blue jumpsuit of a peasant mechanic. Even his stockings and shoes had been taken from him.

This was humiliating. He might actually have preferred to find himself naked.

Sitting up, he continued taking stock of his surroundings. The floor was a solid slab, probably concrete. There were more bars between him and the ceiling, which also appeared to be solid concrete, as did three of the walls beyond the cell. But the fourth, in front of him, had an open doorway, though he couldn’t see much of the corridor beyond. The doorway itself was flanked by two guards, both wearing the same strange dark grey uniform and carrying the same odd black guns as had the men who had surrounded him earlier. There were sigil patches on their sleeves, but he couldn’t quite see them well enough to decipher them; the artificial lighting inside the cell was brighter than the lighting outside it.

In the time it took Martellus to observe all of that, one of the guards reached up to touch something in his left ear and said something Martellus didn’t quite understand.

Frowning, Martellus turned to the other guard. “You. Smoke Knight. Why am I a prisoner?”

The second guard didn’t answer.

“He’s awake, sir,” said the first guard in English. After a moment’s pause, he said, “Yes, sir,” and fell silent once more.

“You are English?” Martellus tried in the same language. When he got no reply, he ventured, “American, perhaps? I have never met an American before.”

Neither guard reacted as if he had heard anything. Martellus huffed in frustration.

He didn’t have long to wait for conversation, however. Not even a minute later, brisk footsteps sounded in the corridor, and the guards snapped to attention as... an officious-looking, balding little man with spectacles walked in. His uniform was of a similar grey as the guards’ but cut differently and had a wide red stripe on either side front below what ought to be the yoke and another on the sleeves above what should be the cuffs. He stopped in front of the cell door and looked at Martellus narrowly for a moment.

“I don’t believe we’ve met, Your Highness,” he said then, still in English. “I’m Richard Woolsey. I’m commander of this expedition.”

Martellus frowned. “What about the other man?”

“Col. Sheppard commands the military portion of the base.”

“What is this?” Martellus demanded as he stood and went to the door. “Why am I a prisoner? What have you done to the Refuge of Storms?”

“There appears to have been a malfunction in the device you used to leave Mechanicsburg. Our scientists are still trying to determine precisely what went wrong. But whatever the cause, you’ve missed your destination by quite a long way. You’re in Atlantis.”

Martellus staggered back a couple of steps in shock. “At—no. No, you lie. The Heterodyne Boys destroyed New Atlantis. The Spark Emperor of the Deepest Trench—”

Herr Woolsey raised his chin. “Who was operating off the coast of Haiti, correct? Your cousin’s already told us that story.”

“It is not just a _story!_ ”

“Well, regardless, we’re several million light-years from Haiti.”

“Light... you mean we are not on Earth?”*

“Not even close to it.”

“Then... then where....”

“We’re in the Pegasus Galaxy.”

Wide-eyed, Martellus stumbled back to the bench and sat down on it hard.

“As to why you’re a prisoner,” Herr Woolsey continued, pacing a little way along the front of the cell, “Lady Heterodyne has alleged that you abducted her.”

“She is mad,” Martellus recovered enough to reply. “I was rescuing her.”

“She also claims you stabbed Prince Tarvek Sturmvoraus. And there is the small matter of your attempt to murder Col. Sheppard.”

“I did not. He attacked me; it was self-defense.”

“Even if I ignored the witness testimony to the contrary... we’ve analyzed the knife you attempted to stab him with. The blade was coated with a very exotic, fast-acting poison.”

“A mistake.”

“As were the twenty other knives we found on you.”

“I am the Storm King. I must take precautions against assassins.”

“Well, there seems to be some question about that. In any case, we’ve checked every historical reference we can find. There’s no record of anyone in the history of _our_ Earth claiming that title.”

Martellus’ heart started pounding. “What? But... surely you have heard of Andronicus Valois....”

Herr Woolsey shook his head. “I’m afraid not. Louis XIV of France was known as the _Sun_ King, but he was a Bourbon.”

“Do not play games with me, clerk,” Martellus snarled, standing up again.

Herr Woolsey didn’t look cowed in the slightest. “I’m not your subject, Your Highness. Even if your claim is valid in the universe you came from—”

Martellus blinked. “In the—”

“—and even if that claim extended to territory in present-day Europe in this universe—”

“What do you—”

“—your authority does not extend to citizens of other nations, nor can any national government lay claim to this expedition. Furthermore, since you are not recognized as sovereign of any nation on our Earth, we are not obligated to grant you diplomatic immunity for the attempted murder of Col. Sheppard nor any presumed privileges of rank. The just and humane treatment due to any accused criminal is the most that you may claim.”

“You _worm!_ ” Martellus roared and lunged toward the bars, intending to reach through and throttle Herr Woolsey. But he never got the chance. His hands struck something invisible between the bars—and a jolt of energy threw him backward to the ground, leaving him conscious but stunned.

“I wouldn’t try that again if I were you,” said Herr Woolsey mildly. “We’ve recalibrated the force field in accordance with your physiology. Dr. Kusanagi wasn’t certain how many shocks your heart could potentially withstand before it stops altogether.”

“You swine,” Martellus growled as best he could for lack of breath and pushed himself up on his elbows. “If this is how... you have treated... the Lady Heterodyne....”

“Lady Heterodyne is in no danger.”

“You do not understand. She will shock herself, kill herself. She is a spark; she is mad. I must protect her.”

“It’s hardly madness to refuse to be kidnapped and abused. And I think you’ll find we have very different attitudes toward the rights of women these days.”

“... these... days?”

Herr Woolsey smirked. “Welcome to the twenty-first century.” And he spun on his heel and left.

Martellus lay back down before his arms could give out on him and closed his eyes to stop the room from spinning. Maybe... maybe if he went back to sleep, he’d wake up to find reality back the way it should be.

* * *

* Before anyone cries foul: according to Merriam-Webster, _light-year_ was first used as a unit of measurement in 1888 in our world, so the _Girl Genius_ crew should in fact know what it means.


	2. Part 1, Chapter 2: Wakey, Wakey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, the opening scene _has_ been Jossed now... and I can't tell you how glad I am of that! I didn't think the Foglios would go the heavy-duty tragic route, but it was worryingly within the realm of canon possibility until this week's pages. Still, I'm keeping this story within the AU I've established on the GG side, so certain details won't square with ongoing canon developments.

Agatha groaned as she felt herself finally, slowly waking up. She was on a bed, which was an improvement over waking up on a lab bench Tuesday morning with Moloch von Zinzer carefully prodding her with a meat fork and early morning sunlight streaming in through the hole she’d accidentally blasted through the wall, a tower, and one of the mountains beyond the town. And it felt like someone had given her a bath and washed her hair while she was asleep, which was another improvement, and the cuts and bumps and bruises she’d received during the fight for the castle and the siege itself no longer pained her. But her mouth was dry and her head was buzzing. Something was pinching the back of her right hand, too, and something else small and hard was... er... stuck in an embarrassing location. She couldn’t quite remember where she was, although she felt perfectly safe, and the head of the bed seemed to be raised slightly, which was odd.

“Castle?” she murmured into her pillow.

_That is not my name, child._

She frowned. That hadn’t been Castle Heterodyne’s voice, either; it was quieter, gentler, and feminine, and she hadn’t exactly _heard_ it so much as _felt_ it in her mind. But neither was it her mother’s voice, though the other consciousness that had been forced into her head was still present and pushing against the restraints of Uncle Barry’s locket. _Who are you?_ she thought back, rolling over carefully.

_Of course, you do not remember—you have not been fully conscious during our previous talks. You may call me Lantea. I am the artificial intelligence of the city of Atlantis._

She sat up in shock. “WHAT?!”

“Oh, hey,” Krosp said with his mouth full. “’Bout time you woke up.”

“What do you mean, I wasn’t—how—Atlantis?!”

Violetta looked at her warily. “Are you talking to the city again?”

Agatha returned the wary look. “You can’t hear it?”

As Violetta shook her head, Lantea stated, _Not all humans have the ability to interact with me on this level, Agatha. But you are not hearing things. There are others to whom I speak. John Sheppard is one of them._

“That’s... Col. Sheppard, the man in black? I’m starting to remember now.”

_Yes. Like you, John possesses a... trait, let us say, inherited from the race that built me, the first to evolve through the form humans now have. They called themselves Alterans before they became Lanteans. Now the humans of Earth call them Ancients._

“Humans... of... Earth.” Agatha put her left hand to her aching head and glanced down at herself, slightly surprised to find she was clad only in a loose white nightshirt done up with snaps at the left shoulder.

“Apparently,” said Violetta, handing Agatha her glasses, “we’re on another planet in another galaxy in another universe in another century. You’ve been asleep for three days; that’s why the intravenous liquids and the... uh... catheter,” she added, blushing slightly. “And they’ve been keeping us in isolation until they’re sure you’re okay. Well, they’ve been keeping _you_ in isolation, but Herr Woolsey said Krosp and I could stay with you.”

“And a good thing, too,” Krosp added, finally leaving his tray and coming over to Agatha’s bed. “You’ve been talking in your sleep _and_ building death rays. They’ve recorded everything you’ve said and confiscated everything you’ve built—but at least they’ve kept bringing you things to build with. Otherwise I think you’d have repurposed all the clanks in here by now.”

“Oh.” Now that she could see properly, Agatha took a look around at the copper walls—beautiful, but very different from Europan décor—and strange medical equipment in the room. There were chairs and cots for Violetta and Krosp, with a table between the chairs where Krosp had been eating, and Violetta had evidently been granted access to the library, because there was a book on the table. A look upward showed that the room had a glass dome for a ceiling, and Col. Sheppard and the very tan man with the strangely braided hair and the death ray ( _that_ she remembered very well, despite not remembering his name) were outside it looking down at her, along with a beautiful dark-skinned woman. Agatha waved to them, and all three of them smiled and waved back.

“The tall man is called Ronon Dex,” Violetta informed her, “and the lady is Teyla Emmagan. They’re native here—to this galaxy, I mean. Everyone’s really friendly; they’re just... cautious.”

Agatha nodded. “That’s understandable.” Then she felt of the locket, just to make sure she wasn’t imagining that it was still there.

“No incidents,” Violetta answered the question she wasn’t asking.

Agatha sighed in relief. “Good.”

“But I think one of the doctors has questions. They ran a lot of tests on you the first day, just to make sure you really were only exhausted.”

Agatha nodded slowly. “Maybe they can help.”

Violetta shrugged. “Can’t hurt to ask.”

“Where’s the wasp eater?”

“In one of the biology labs, since they’ve got better facilities for housing it than letting it run loose in here. But Dr. Zelenka—he’s Bohemian—he’s been making sure the sparks take care of it and don’t experiment on it. He said they did some of the same tests they ran on you, with a clank that gathers information with only a beam of light, but nothing else.”

“Good. I need to thank him for that. And that... Tweedle person?”

Krosp chuckled and jumped up on the bed. “He’s in the dungeon. We won’t have to worry about _him_ for quite a while.”

“The bad news,” Violetta added more soberly, “is that all the knives he was carrying were poisoned, which means the one he threw at Tarvek probably was, too. And the chemists not only analyzed the poison but have a thinking engine that can simulate what it does.”

Agatha steeled herself. “And?”

“Instant paralysis. Painful death. And the entire body liquefies within thirty minutes.”

“Sweet lightning.”

“Dr. Zelenka asked me about it, but it’s not any of the poisons I know, which means it’s probably Tweedle’s own invention. There may not be a cure, even if we can treat Tarvek right away.”

Agatha very nearly said something very unladylike. “Between that and whatever the baron did to Gil... you know, I wonder if we shouldn’t try to get back an hour or two before we left so we can save them.”

“If it’s even possible to get back. I’ve wondered that myself.”

“What do you mean, _if_ it’s possible? We made the trip once; we should be able to go back.”

“Theoretically! Look, Dr. Zelenka and Dr. McKay are still trying to work out what went wrong to bring us here in the first place. You’ll have to get all the spark stuff from them. But apparently it’s going to be really tricky to recreate the same path back across space _and_ time _and_ dimensions all at once.”

“Really tricky,” Agatha replied, Spark and determination in her voice, “does not mean impossible. They may be sparks, but I am the Heterodyne. If they can’t figure it out, I will.”

Krosp and Violetta exchanged a nervous glance.

 _I shall miss you when you leave, Agatha_ , said Lantea quietly. _I already like you. But do not stay only for my account—I know your responsibilities and your heart lie elsewhere, and even if you stayed here all your life, you would leave me eventually. That is the way of things._

Agatha smiled sadly. “Maybe I can find a way to come back sometime, hey?”

_Maybe. But that must be your choice._

Just then, the door opened, and a blonde lady with a cheerful smile walked in. The cut of her yellow-trimmed grey jacket and trousers and her blue blouse was strange, and they had an unusual style of fastener, but Agatha supposed that was to be expected in the future. There was a patch on the lady’s right sleeve that looked like it said _ATLANTIS_ above a sigil Agatha couldn’t decipher, and on her right sleeve was an unfamiliar flag—American, perhaps?

“Good morning, Lady Heterodyne!” the lady chirped in English, though not with an English accent. “I’m Dr. Jennifer Keller; I’m the chief medical officer here in Atlantis.”

“Pleased to meet you, Frau Doktor,” Agatha replied in the same language and thanked God that both Lilith, her foster mother, and Dr. Beetle, her former mentor, had insisted that she learn it to near-native fluency. Her diction might be formal, but at least she could communicate.

“How are you feeling?”

“Well, thank you. Much better rested, though I could do with some tea.”

“ _Not_ coffee,” Krosp warned. “Not unless you want her rebuilding half the city into something you’ll never recognize.”

“That happened _once_ ,” Agatha objected, “and I rebuilt only the coffee engine in the one shop.”

“And then had to un-improve it after the first cup sent von Mekkhan into orbit.”

“Well, how was I to know perfect coffee could have that effect on anyone?”

“Right, no coffee,” said Dr. Keller, fighting a smile. “Although we might have you see if you can get better results out of tava beans. Once in a while, a supply shipment from Earth gets delayed, and we have to use those instead of coffee beans. Everyone _hates_ it—frankly, they’re better in soup.”

Agatha chuckled. “Perhaps simply increasing the efficiency of your coffee engines would suffice, so that your supplies will last longer.”

“It’s a thought. Mind if I look you over? Krosp warned us you might sleep for several days, but we didn’t think he meant straight through. I just want to make sure everything’s all right before I release you.”

At Violetta’s slight nod, Agatha nodded more obviously. “Would you excuse us?” she asked both Violetta and Krosp in Romanian.

“Of course,” Violetta replied in the same language and herded Krosp out the door, which closed behind them.

Dr. Keller smiled brightly at Agatha before placing a sensor on one of Agatha’s fingers and moving to one of the medical clanks. “So! Let’s start with some basics, just to check your cognitive function. Name?”

“Agatha Heterodyne.”

“Date of birth?”

“Er, well, I am eighteen years old. We usually celebrate my birthday on December 4,* but—it is a long story that I have only just learned, but the short version is, I was born in enemy territory, and my uncle did not stop to look for records when he rescued me.”

Dr. Keller nodded slowly. “Do you know what year it is?”

“When we left Mechanicsburg, it was 1892. Violetta tells me we are now in another century, but we had not yet discussed what year it is in fact.”

Dr. Keller nodded more quickly this time. “That squares with what she said. Just so you know, it’s November 11, 2013.”

“It is—” Agatha put a hand to her head. “ _Fulger dulce_. We have jumped 121 years, and I do not want to know how many miles.”

“Let’s just say it’s a couple million light-years back to Earth.”

Overwhelmed, Agatha flopped back on the bed. “And that does not even account for the change in universe. All in a single instant.” She paused. “I wonder how the portal _should_ have worked, and why it went so terribly wrong.”

Dr. Keller smiled kindly and moved an arm of the clank over Agatha’s bed. “Well, I’m sure you’d be welcome to go through the library to learn more of the basics of wormhole technology. In fact, Dr. McKay might appreciate it if you can get up to speed on how the Stargates work before he figures out the answer to your second question, so he won’t have to explain all the background.”

Agatha brightened at that. “May I? I will want to block, if not destroy, the portal in the Red Cathedral to prevent this sort of thing from happening again, but the technology itself could have definite uses. My friend Zeetha is from a country called Skifander that is far from Europa,” she went on as the clank shone a beam of light and swept over the bed from head to foot, “but we have not yet worked out exactly where it is. If we can find the coordinates, a portal like your—what did you call it? Stargate?”

Dr. Keller nodded. “Right.”

“Might be just the thing to make it easier for her to travel home and come back to Mechanicsburg to visit. Ooh!” Agatha added as her Spark kicked in, and Dr. Keller prepared the clank for a second pass. “If I put the portal in Castle Heterodyne, I might not even need a way to block it! The castle has a thinking engine like Lantea and is very good at dealing with intruders, and then there are the nyar spiders, the spiderroaches, the ghostmaker mice, the bloodbats—never mind the Jägers....”

Dr. Keller interrupted with a laugh. “Looks like _your_ brain’s working just fine. What’s a Jäger?”

“Jägermonster. They...” Agatha paused and grimaced. “They are hard to describe and even harder to explain. They were men once, soldiers in my ancestors’ army, who chose to swear the Jägertroth and to drink the Jägerbräu, which was first brewed centuries ago by Vlad the Blasphemous. Very few survived the transformation. Those who lived are forever loyal to the House of Heterodyne and are... well, at minimum, they are very strong and very hard to kill. They age, but they will not die of age.” She paused again. “I do not think my father and uncle liked them much, but they have been very kind to me and protected me as much as they could.”

“Did you grow up around them?”

“No, not at all. Uncle Barry kept me hidden as long as he could, and he hardly told me anything about myself, not even my real last name. Then eleven years ago, he left me in Beetleburg with friends. Growing up, I knew them as Adam and Lilith Clay. It was only a few months ago that I found out they were really Punch and Judy, the Heterodyne Boys’ constructs.”

Dr. Keller came over to ease the intravenous needle out of Agatha’s right hand. “Construct?”

“Er....” Agatha rubbed the back of her neck with her free hand, trying to think how to explain. She’d thought everyone knew about constructs. “They are... stitched together, from parts of corpses.”

“Like Frankenstein’s monster?”

“Ah, well, technically Dr. Frankenstein’s construct was not—”

Dr. Keller shook her head. “Forget it. I’m with you now.”

“But constructs are _not_ all monsters,” Agatha insisted. “Adam was a blacksmith, and Lilith gave piano lessons. I could not have asked for better parents.”

Dr. Keller looked abashed and bandaged Agatha’s hand. “I didn’t mean to offend you, sorry.”

“Well, it is a common enough view even in my own world. In the Heterodyne Boys books and shows, Punch and Judy are very stupid; my parents hated that. I did not find out why until it was too late.”

“But they kept you away from the Jägers, too?”

Agatha nodded. “Yes. By then, the Jägers were working for Baron Klaus Wulfenbach, who used to travel with the Heterodyne Boys and has built an empire just to keep the peace. I still do not know why Uncle Barry did not want Baron Wulfenbach to find me—not that he was necessarily wrong. I have not had good dealings with the baron since we met. It was just my luck that he came to Beetleburg the day my locket was stolen,” she added bitterly.

Dr. Keller frowned and pointed to Agatha’s throat. “ _This_ locket?”

Agatha nodded. “Uncle Barry put a device in it that suppressed my Spark and kept me from breaking through. A few months ago, two soldiers attacked me and stole it from me—and the man who stole it died. His brother came back to confront me, and I suppose he had it with him. That must be how the baron found it when he captured us and took us back to Castle Wulfenbach. Von Zinzer had broken the clockwork somehow, but the baron fixed it after I escaped from him. Anyway, that was the day I first met a Jäger; several had come into town with the baron.”

“But if your family made the Jägers, why didn’t your dad and your uncle like them?”

Agatha sighed heavily. “Now I _know_ I am in another universe, if you have not heard stories of the Heterodynes. For many centuries, my ancestors were the terror of Europa. My grandmother raised my father and uncle to be heroes, and Bill and Barry Heterodyne became as loved as our forefathers had been hated.” She shook her head. “Then my father fell in love with a villain’s daughter, Lucrezia Mongfish, and hoped marriage would redeem her. So of course my mother turned out to be an even worse monster than the Heterodynes.”

“How so?”

“She was The Other. She tried to take over Europa with her slaver wasps—they burrow into a person’s brain and make them obey her commands. She gave birth to me among her servants, the Geisterdamen, and... well, I... I think she and my father may have killed each other.” Agatha sighed again. “And then last week, one of her past lovers captured me and forced a copy of her consciousness into my mind. When the baron caught up to me, he had my locket with him. My mother was in control and took it from him, but when she put it on, I woke up. It keeps her suppressed, but if it comes off, she takes over again.”

Dr. Keller let out a low whistle. “Well, Dr. Beckett wants to talk to you about that, so I’ll pass on what you’ve just told me. We picked up some anomalous brain activity that he thought looked like mind control. He’ll probably want to run some more tests to be sure, but there was a somewhat similar incident here a few years back, so we may have a way to get that other consciousness out of your head.”

“Oh, that would be marvelous. I hope you can.”

“All right, hold still for juuust a moment.” Dr. Keller reached under the sheet and gently removed the catheter tube. “So who’s Gil?”

Agatha blushed. “Nobody,” she lied.

Dr. Keller raised an eyebrow and disposed of the catheter and her gloves in a bin marked _Biohazard_. “Nobody, huh? That’s not what it sounded like. You were having some pretty good dreams about him.”

Agatha’s blush deepened. “No, nothing like—it is not—”

“I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant.” Dr. Keller put a hand on Agatha’s shoulder. “Because you’d been kidnapped, one of the first things I checked was whether you’d been raped. It was clear you’re still a virgin.”

“Oh. Um. Thank you.”

“Especially since you tried to hit me for touching you,” Dr. Keller added with a wry smile.

Agatha couldn’t suppress a slightly hysterical giggle. “Forgive me.”

Dr. Keller shrugged. “That’s all right; Lady Mondarev held you down. No harm done. So who is he?”

Agatha took a deep breath and tried to will her blush away. “Gilgamesh Wulfenbach. He is the baron’s son, and... I am somewhat in love with him.”

“Only somewhat?”

“Well, the last time I saw him, something was wrong with him. Tarvek thinks the baron did something to him. And... then there is Tarvek.”

“Oh, the old love triangle.”

Agatha nodded and really wished she could stop blushing.

“Yeah, I know how that goes. Happened to me, too.”

Agatha blinked. “Really?”

Dr. Keller nodded. “Yeah, Dr. McKay and Ronon. Went on for a couple of months before I realized Ronon was being really annoyingly overprotective and told him I wasn’t interested. Which was true, although I wasn’t completely in love with Rodney yet. But then Ronon found out how well Sgt. Banks can fight—she’s a kickboxer—and... well, if they don’t get married pretty soon, I’ll be very surprised.”

Agatha chuckled. “And you and Dr. McKay?”

Dr. Keller shrugged again. “Maybe. When Col. Sheppard gets promoted next month, his team will stop going offworld, so... once Rodney has more time to devote to his actual research, maybe he’ll be ready to take the plunge in the next year or two. Or y’know, maybe he’ll decide he’d rather be married to his work after all. I guess we’ll see.”

“Offworld?”

“Yeah, we travel to other planets through the Stargate network, sometimes to explore, sometimes to trade and keep up relations with the other worlds in the Coalition. Col. Sheppard, Rodney, Ronon, and Teyla are our lead team. But Stargate Command, back on Earth, wants Col. Sheppard to focus on the administration side of the base once he’s promoted. Although honestly?” Dr. Keller added, lowering her voice and leaning forward as if sharing a confidence. “ _I_ think Col. Carter’s just trying to give Col. Sheppard cover for marrying Teyla. Because of the fraternization regs, they can’t officially be a couple as long as she’s under his command. Col. Carter’s been in the same boat for almost twenty years, although with Gen. O’Neill retiring, that’s probably going to change soon. But _I_ think she doesn’t want John and Teyla to have to wait that long.”

Agatha blinked at the unfamiliar names and gossip, then chuckled ruefully. “I see I still have much to learn about this place.”

“Ah, sorry. I forgot you don’t know who half these people are. But! Everything looks good health-wise, so if you want to get dressed—your clothes are over here,” Dr. Keller added, pointing to a counter behind the bed. Nearby, someone had thoughtfully set up a changing cubicle with a top that would shield Agatha from the sight of anyone looking down through the ceiling. “Go ahead and get changed, and I’ll be happy to release you.”

“Thank you, Frau Doktor,” Agatha replied and got up, collected her clothes and found they’d been washed, then ducked into the cubicle and dressed quickly. It really was a relief to have a decent number of layers between herself and the outside world; she’d had far more than her fair share of embarrassment while breaking through, when she would sleepwalk into labs on Castle Wulfenbach wearing nothing but her chemise and drawers. She hoped she hadn’t said or done anything too humiliating while she’d been sleepwalking here.

The door opened while she was still putting on her boots, and she heard Dr. Keller talking quietly with another woman. So she stamped slightly harder than necessary to make sure her heels fitted into the heels of her boots properly and remind the ladies of her presence, then emerged from the cubicle with her most diplomatic smile firmly in place.

Dr. Keller, it turned out, was talking with the dark-skinned woman, Frau... Emmagen. Frau Emmagen’s hair was light brown, almost blonde, and Agatha could see her clothing better now; her jacket and trousers were similar to Dr. Keller’s but were trimmed in maroon, which suggested it was some kind of uniform. But unlike Dr. Keller, Frau Emmagen wore a low-cut maroon-and-black bodice that fit corset-tight with no blouse or chemise under it.

“Ah, here she is!” Dr. Keller said. “Lady Heterodyne, this is Teyla Emmagen of Athos.”

“How do you do?” Agatha said to Frau Emmagen as she walked over to the other ladies.

“Pleased to meet you,” Frau Emmagen returned with a genuine smile, the crispness of her diction hinting that she, too, was not a native speaker of English. “I’m glad to see you recovered from your exhaustion.”

“Thank you.”

“May I escort you to your quarters, and then perhaps give you a tour of the city?”

“I would be honored.”

Frau Emmagen’s smile brightened. “Very well. Come with me, then. We’ll see you later, Jennifer,” she added to Dr. Keller before ushering Agatha out into the hall, where Violetta and Krosp were waiting for them.

Atlantis, it turned out, was full of astonishing technology, from the doors that opened at Agatha’s mental command to the spaces that looked like closets or lifts but could transport three humans and a cat across the city instantly. Such a convenience was necessary because the city appeared to be even bigger than Mechanicsburg. The bright, spacious quarters Agatha was to share with Violetta and Krosp had a wonderful view of both the city and the ocean on which it rested like a snowflake-shaped island. But the city was also a ship capable of submersion or of space flight, and Frau Emmagan had first-hand tales of seeing it do both in one day!

As they toured, Frau Emmagan, who quickly insisted that the travelers call her Teyla, explained the history of the city and of the Ancients, who seemed to have been essentially an entire race of sparks. Agatha found herself returning what stories she knew of similar sparks in Europa, along with some of the sillier experiments like the Calming Pie developed by one of the members of the circus with which she’d traveled for a few months. Teyla also explained what she could about deoxyribonucleic acid, the substance responsible for genetic inheritance; Agatha was familiar with the concept of genetics, but no one in Europa had yet found the precise mechanism. Among the traits encoded in DNA was the Ancient Technology Activation gene, which both Agatha and Violetta appeared to have. But Teyla’s other reason for explaining DNA was to introduce the history of the Wraith, vampire-like bug-men that fed on humans and had driven the Ancients out of the Pegasus Galaxy ten thousand years ago. The Wraith had then lorded over the humans of the galaxy until, nine years earlier, the expedition from Earth had arrived and reawakened the slumbering city. And Teyla was one of the rare few descendants of humans who had been genetically engineered with a bit of Wraith DNA, which her people called the Gift because it allowed them to sense the Wraith’s approach. Teyla herself, however, had learned to use the Gift to tap into the Wraith’s telepathic network and even, on a few occasions, take control of a Wraith queen.

“Not to worry, though,” she hastened to add when she saw the shocked looks on Agatha’s and Violetta’s faces. “Even if I wanted to do that to a human, I wouldn’t be able to. It works only on Wraith.”

“That is still a very dangerous power to possess,” Agatha noted, uncomfortably reminded of the gradual process by which she learned first-hand that her command voice could control her mother’s monsters.

“Indeed it is,” Teyla agreed, “which is why I have used it only a handful of times, and that only in great need. And since we have fought the Wraith long enough to all but eliminate them as a threat, I have had no cause to use my Gift in such a way for several years.”

Back home, that would have been the precise moment an alert sounded that the Wraith were about to attack. But apparently such rules did not apply here.

“I should warn you, however,” Teyla continued. “There is a Wraith living here in Atlantis.”

Agatha blinked. “Truly? Why? Are they not your enemies?”

“They are, but this particular Wraith has chosen to ally with us many times in the past. Finally, the time came when allowing him to leave was far more of a security risk than allowing him to stay. Dr. Keller and Dr. Beckett found a way to eliminate his need to feed on humans, and although he is officially a prisoner and is guarded at all times, he has given us valuable assistance and has leave to move about the city at his will. We call him Todd.”

“Hm.” Agatha caught herself before her expression of surprise could turn into heterodyning.

“He had better not try anything with my lady,” Violetta growled. “If he does, either she will kill him or I will.”

Teyla smiled and shook her head. “I’m sure he’s no danger to you. But most newcomers to Atlantis find his presence... unsettling. And he may become curious about you, not least because he seems to now regard Atlantis as his ship and all of us as his pets.”

“I see,” Agatha said neutrally. “Thank you.”

“But speaking of fighting, Agatha, Violetta tells me you’ve been receiving warrior training.”

Agatha nodded. “Yes, from my friend Zeetha. We are _kolee-dok-zumil_ —she says it is a difficult concept to translate, but it is partly teacher and student, partly cause and effect, partly grindstone and knife.”

“Perhaps while you’re here, you both would care to come and spar with me in the gym. I’m sure I teach differently, but I could introduce you to the Athosian art of fighting with banto rods.”

Agatha’s eyebrows shot up, but then she realized it might actually be a good idea. “Thank you. At least this way Zeetha cannot chide me for not keeping up with my training.”

Teyla laughed gently.

Then Agatha’s stomach grumbled, and she chuckled. “Before we spar, though, I need to eat.”

“Of course. Let me show you where the mess hall is.”

They arrived at the mess hall just as a man Agatha vaguely recognized was coming out of it. His uniform was the same as Teyla’s, apart from the flag patch that matched Dr. Keller’s. Teyla greeted him as “Mr. Woolsey,” which rang a slight bell, and he smiled and shook Agatha’s hand.

“I’m glad to see you so well recovered,” he told her.

“Thank you,” she replied. “I really do feel much better now that I have slept.”

“And I see Teyla’s been giving you the grand tour.”

“Yes. She is a beautiful city. Thank you for allowing us to stay until we find a way home.”

“Oh, you’re very welcome. Having spoken with Prince Martellus, I find it very easy to believe that he abducted you, although we’re still trying to get him to confess to a motive. His story keeps changing every time he’s questioned.”

“That is not surprising,” Violetta groused. “Tweedle never was a very good liar. He may even _think_ he was doing it for my lady’s own good, but it is a safe bet that that was never his only real motivation.”

Herr Woolsey hummed thoughtfully. “We’ll be trying a different approach this afternoon. That may render better results. Well, don’t let me keep you,” he continued more brightly, gesturing toward the interior of the mess hall, which reminded Agatha somewhat of the dining halls at TPU. He then started to turn away, then stopped. “Oh! Teyla, can you spare a moment? We have some administrative business to discuss.”

Ha, so the red on the uniform must stand for administration and yellow for medicine! Agatha had also seen blue and black on the jackets of people they had passed on their tour, but she supposed she’d find out what those colors meant later on.

“Of course,” said Teyla. “Agatha, I’ll be in the gym most of the afternoon, but if you’d rather not spar today, I’d be happy for you to come to my quarters for tea.”

“Both ideas sound lovely,” Agatha replied. “Thank you.”

Teyla smiled. “I’ll see you later, then.”

As she left with Herr Woolsey, Violetta said quietly in Romanian, “You do realize she’s been interrogating you.”

“Of course,” Agatha replied in the same language and led the way into the mess hall. “But we have more to gain from honesty than from secrecy. Dr. Keller thinks they have a way to remove Mother, and we do need their help to find a way back. I seriously doubt they’ll help us if they don’t trust us.” She paused to look around, discovered that the food was being served from a long buffet on one side of the hall, and started toward it. “Plus, if they _do_ trust us, maybe they’ll allow me access to a lab.”

“They’d better,” Krosp noted. “I’ve seen what happens when you get bored.”

Agatha looked down at him with her best innocent expression. “Why, Krosp, whatever do you mean?”

“A merry-go-round that can level a town? Ring any bells?”

“I doubt I have any need to build such things here. Unlike the circus, Atlantis already has very impressive defenses.”

Violetta giggled. So did Lantea.

The cooks were just bringing out lunch, so the travelers were able to fill their trays with piping hot food—including still-warm cake, which Agatha decided to eat first—and found a table outside on a balcony with a beautiful view of the ocean. The weather was surprisingly balmy; perhaps this part of the planet didn’t have harsh winters, or perhaps its seasons differed from Earth’s altogether. She had never been to the seaside before, though, at least that she could remember, and found her attention drifting away from the conversation toward the water and the distant mainland that stretched like a dark smudge along the faraway horizon.

“May I join you?”

The strangely distorted English-speaking male voice jolted Agatha out of her reverie, and she looked up at... well, someone who looked rather like a Jäger. His long white hair was unkempt but not dirty, and he had a small patch of thin beard on his chin, but the black leather greatcoat he wore gave him a distinguished air nonetheless. The hands that gripped his tray had claws instead of nails, and his teeth were sharp, but neither they nor his yellow reptilian eyes were inconsistent with the Jägers she knew. His shiny greenish skin and the vent-like slits on his cheeks were less common, and he had a marking or tattoo around his left eye that almost looked like a starburst. But really, he didn’t strike her as being any more dangerous than anyone she’d met in Mechanicsburg.

“Please do,” Agatha replied in the same language and gestured to the empty chair beside Krosp.

The newcomer bowed his head slightly and sat down. “Thank you. I take it that you are Lady Heterodyne?”

“I am. But forgive me—I did not think there were any Jägers in Atlantis.”

He blinked. “I am Wraith.”

Agatha’s eyes widened. “OH!” Suddenly the presence of the two men with rifles who were standing against the wall watching their table made sense. “I had heard... but I had pictured something very different. You are called Todd, yes?”

“That is what Col. Sheppard named me. My kind do not give names. Although some days I wonder whether it is still my kind,” he added, looking pensively at the palm of his right hand. “I... have been altered, as you have no doubt learned.”

“Yes, I had heard that. But change is better than death, is it not?”

He looked up at her again, frowning slightly. “Do you not fear me, Agatha Heterodyne?”

She looked him in the eye. “Should I?”

They stared at each other for a long moment, and somehow Agatha felt like she was engaging in some kind of battle of wills. She didn’t understand why, but she really wasn’t afraid, and she wasn’t about to back down when Teyla had said Todd probably meant her no harm.

Then abruptly he blinked, smiled, and bowed his head slightly. “Perhaps not.”

The sudden sense of triumph was as dizzying as champagne, but Agatha managed to keep from leaping out of her seat with a wild yell. After all, this wasn’t Mechanicsburg. Todd’s guards shifted uneasily in her peripheral vision anyway.

“But I am curious,” Todd continued as he picked up his fork. “What are these Jägers that you mistook me for?”

Agatha explained in slightly more detail than she’d given Dr. Keller, and Krosp chimed in with some observations as well. Todd asked some probing questions that gave away the fact that he was a scientist himself, and soon Agatha was asking him all sorts of questions about the Stargates, the differences between the technologies developed by the various Pegasus races, and more. He admitted to being many thousands of years old, and she found herself fascinated by his observations, even though she knew they were biased in favor of his own kind. She almost didn’t notice the lunch crowd that grew and dispersed as they talked or Violetta gathering everyone’s trays to return.

Finally, however, one of the guards cleared his throat and approached the table. “’Scuse me, ma’am,” he said. “Dr. Beckett’s just radioed that he’d like to meet with you in the isolation room as soon as possible.”

“Is something wrong?” Agatha asked as the four of them pushed back from the table.

“No idea, ma’am, sorry. He just said it has to do with your locket.”

“Ah, all right. Thank you for the interesting conversation, Todd,” she added.

He rose and bowed to her as she stood. “The pleasure was mine, Lady Heterodyne. I hope we may speak again soon.”

“I would like that, thank you.”

The guards gave Agatha directions back to the isolation room, and she thanked them and took her leave. But somehow she could sense Todd watching her as she led Krosp and Violetta away.

“That went surprisingly well,” Violetta murmured in Romanian. “But he’s still dangerous, my lady.”

Agatha shot her a sidelong look. “So are we.”

“ _I_ like him,” Krosp proclaimed. “I think I’ve finally found a kindred spirit in this place.”

“Saints preserve us,” Agatha teased. “Come on, let’s go see what Dr. Beckett’s figured out about removing Mother.”

* * *

* To the best of my knowledge, Agatha’s exact birth date has never been given in canon, so I’ve given her my own.  
** “Sweet lightning” in Romanian. 


	3. Part 1, Chapter 3: How to Win Friends and Influence Royalty

Carson Beckett was not a psychiatrist. (Well, technically, he wasn’t even a licensed physician anymore, not that anyone in Pegasus cared. Being legally dead was a decided advantage for keeping his whereabouts secret but a decided disadvantage for keeping his credentials current.) But he did at least know the difference between Multiple Personality Disorder and a foreign consciousness trapped in one’s brain. He’d also taken both video and still shots of the mechanism in Lady Heterodyne’s locket and thought he’d figured out how it worked, though he still needed one last set of test data to be certain. If the fMRI bore out his suspicions, however, it wouldn’t be difficult at all to undo what had been done to her—provided, of course, that he could locate the one piece of technology needed to overcome the most significant obstacle.

And then there were the chimeric cells with two completely different sets of DNA to ask about, not to mention the synaptic activity spike Jennifer had recorded that morning. The latter would worry Carson more after Rodney’s brush with forced ascension had Lady Heterodyne not been able to _end_ the spike as if it were an everyday occurrence. Perhaps that had something to do with the “Spark” she had mentioned.

(If so, Carson wasn’t going to tell Rodney about it. The poor man didn’t need the bruise to his ego of learning that yet another woman was smarter than the self-proclaimed smartest man in two galaxies, never mind finding out that this one might still be in college. Carson might hold onto it for one of the increasingly rare occasions on which Rodney became completely insufferable, however.)

Just as Carson finished one final check of the semi-portable short-bore fMRI machine, the door opened and Lady Heterodyne and her companions walked in. “Ah, hullo, Lady Heterodyne!” he called and walked over to greet her properly. “Carson Beckett, at your service.”

“Pleased to meet you, Herr Doktor,” Lady Heterodyne replied and shook his hand, ignoring the door as it closed.

“Likewise. Dr. Keller told me what you told her this morning about your mother. If you’ll have a seat, I’ve a few more questions to ask, and then I’d like to run a short series of tests to make sure the procedure I have in mind will work.”

She nodded toward the fMRI machine as she sat down on one of the chairs that had been left in the room. “That is what you use to test?”

“Aye. It’s called functional magnetic resonance imaging, and it allows me to monitor changes in your brain activity in response to various stimuli.”

Her eyes lit up. “Ooh! Magnetic resonance—so it is not an invasive process?”

“No, not at all. But I’ll save the explanation for a few minutes, as one thing I want to test is how your brain reacts when thinking about scientific questions.”

She cleared her throat and settled back in the chair. “Ah, yes, right. Forgive me.”

He smiled and sat down in another chair. “Quite all right, milady. Before we get to the neuroscience, though, I’ve some questions about a few anomalies that our scanners found in your system. Now, I’m sure you’ve already been told you have the ATA gene.”

“Yes, Teyla explained. And Lantea tells me the expression is quite strong, as I am able to talk to her.”

“Aye, that it is. Col. Sheppard’s always been the strongest natural gene carrier on the base, but you’re not far behind him.”

“Natural gene carrier? Does that mean it can be artificially induced?” There was an edge to her voice this time that made Carson very curious as to what her brain was doing.

“ _Concentra!_ ” Lady Mondarev barked.

“Ah, well, it can,” Carson admitted, “but that brings me to my first question. You see, we found some cells in your heart muscle that appear to belong to someone else. Two other people, actually—both men.”

Lady Heterodyne blinked rapidly for a moment and looked at Lady Mondarev, who looked equally surprised. “Oh,” said Lady Heterodyne. “We did not know that could happen, but... it would explain so much.”

Carson raised his eyebrows. “That means something to you, then.”

“Yes. Ah, forgive me, Herr Doktor... you do not by chance know the reanimation process called Si Vales Valeo?”

Now it was Carson’s turn to blink. “Reanimation?”

“Well, they were not all the way dead,” Lady Mondarev clarified.

Lady Heterodyne raised a hand. “We should back up. My friend Tarvek had contracted a disease known as Hogfarb’s Resplendent Immolation, and because I was trying to care for him, I somehow caught it from him before we found Gil to tell us what it was.”

Carson nodded slowly. “That explains the foreign organism we found in your bloodstream and in your urine. The infection’s been killed, but your body’s still purging itself of the dead bacteria.”

“Yes. We were all in Castle Heterodyne, and it was too dangerous to try to move to the hospital. So Gil recommended that the three of us undergo the Si Vales Valeo.”

“It was slightly more complicated than _that_ ,” Lady Mondarev noted.

“We do not have all day!”

Krosp chuckled. So did Carson.

“Anyway,” Lady Heterodyne continued, “the process ordinarily occurs between only two people and uses the life energy of the stronger to reanimate the weaker. Because of various complications, each of us ended up needing to be revived by the other two. There was no exchange of fluids, but... when we were synched for the energy transfer, we did all display identical symptoms. Perhaps more was exchanged among us than we thought.”

Krosp frowned. “And you say these foreign cells were in her _heart_?”

Carson nodded. “Aye.”

A wistful look crossed Lady Heterodyne’s face as she started to put her hand over her heart. But then she caught herself, drew a deep breath, and returned her attention to Carson. “Forgive me. Does that answer your question?”

“Aye, milady, it does. Thank you. I did just want to say one more thing before we begin the test, something I hope will be a comfort to you.”

“That sounds ominous,” said Lady Mondarev.

“Well, possibly, though more so for me than for you. Milady, are you familiar with the concept of cloning?”

Lady Heterodyne frowned. “Cloning?”

“The making of a genetically exact duplicate of someone.”

She shook her head. “None of my professors at Transylvania Polygnostic ever spoke of such a thing. I understand what you are saying, though I cannot picture how it would be done.”  
“Well, I don’t quite know how it was done, either, but... it happened to me. The original Carson Beckett had been captured, and somehow his captor—we called him Michael—gathered enough genetic material from him to be able to create me.”

Her eyes went wide. “You are a _construct?!_ ”

“Aye, if you like. While I was still Michael’s captive, the original Carson was killed in the line of duty. Nobody in Atlantis even knew I existed until Michael captured the Athosians as a trap to kidnap Teyla, and Col. Sheppard stumbled across me looking for her.”

Lady Mondarev whistled.

Carson leaned forward. “My reason for telling you, though, is this. Michael used some form of mind control on me. We still don’t know exactly what he did. All I know is that at one crucial moment, I had him at gunpoint, and I couldn’t pull the trigger.”

“I am sorry,” said Lady Heterodyne quietly.

“Lady Mondarev’s told us about the revenants, the people controlled by your mother’s wasps. I don’t think that’s what Michael did to me, precisely, but... I know what it is to find your body suddenly no longer under your control. And I’m going to do everything in my power both to undo what was done to you and to help you get back to free the revenants in your own world.”

She sniffled and nodded. “Thank you, Herr Doktor. And I would be happy to help you if I can.”

“Och, no need for that, milady. Michael’s been dead nearly five years now. Teyla killed him—kicked him off the central tower when he tried to destroy the city.”

“Good,” ladies and cat stated with equal ferocity.

Carson smiled, both amused and touched by their reaction, then stood. “Right, well, now that’s out of the way, shall we start? You’ll need to take off anything metal apart from the locket.”

“Very well.” Lady Heterodyne stood and took off her glasses, belt, boots, and bodice, leaving on her blouse and trousers, then followed him to the fMRI machine. “Restraints,” she noted, looking at the examining table. “You intend to take off my locket also, then?”

“Not precisely, though I may need to stop it temporarily if it causes interference with the readings. Do I have your permission?”

“If it is necessary, or if you need to measure the difference between us, then yes. But you must not let her tempt you to release her.”

Carson smiled coldly. “Don’t worry, milady.” He pointed up to the observation room, then glanced up just as Ronon waved at Lady Heterodyne. “Nobody leaves the room until _Ronon_ says so.”

“Excellent.” Lady Heterodyne nodded to Ronon, then looked at her companions and said something to them in Romanian.

Lady Mondarev nodded, then turned to Carson. “We will stay out of sight. You must say the Council sent you—that is the High Council of the Order of the Knights of Jove—to separate her from Lady Heterodyne because my lady’s plans have become too dangerous.”

Carson nodded back. “Got it. But I’m not planning to do anything with the locket just yet, so we’ve a bit of time.”

“You should still strap her down,” said Krosp. “If you plan to test her Spark, that might be the only way to stop her from running off in the middle of the test.”

“Krosp!” Lady Heterodyne chided.

“I have seen you in the madness place,” Lady Mondarev retorted, picking up one of the straps. “It is a wise precaution.”

“And it will help you to stay completely still,” Carson noted, “which is necessary to get the clearest images.”

Lady Heterodyne rolled her eyes and lay down but didn’t actually protest as Lady Mondarev strapped her down.

“Madness place?” Carson asked Krosp.

“Technically, it is called a Spark-induced fugue state,” said Lady Heterodyne.

“It puts the ‘mad’ in mad science,” said Krosp, leading Lady Mondarev back to the chairs, which would be both out of sight and out of range of the magnet.

“And what’s this Spark you’re talking about?” Carson pressed.

“Difficult to define and fairly uncommon. It is a combination of intellectual gifts and abilities, most commonly scientific. A person like Agatha who has the Spark is called a spark.”

Carson nodded thoughtfully. “And when a person starts to show those abilities—that’s what ye call ‘breaking through’?”

“Yes,” Lady Heterodyne replied. “Most sparks break through in their teens, or even later. But the stronger the spark, the earlier he breaks through. Gil was eight.”

“And you?”

“Well, Uncle Barry gave me the locket when I was five. I think I was starting to show signs of breakthrough even then. I finished breaking through after it was stolen, and now my mind is too strong for it.”

Carson nodded again. He’d suspected the locket worked by creating a harmonic that interfered with certain kinds of synaptic activity, and what she was saying confirmed that hypothesis. Now the only question was _which_ kinds of synaptic activity—and whether they could be used to separate her consciousness from that of her mother. “Right. Just relax as much as you can for the moment so I can get a good resting baseline.”

Lady Heterodyne nodded, closed her eyes, and took some deep breaths to relax herself. Then Carson slid her head into the bore and waited to make sure the locket’s action wasn’t going to cause undue interference. There was some slight distortion, but nothing he couldn’t correct for, and the images looked like those of a normal resting but wakeful eighteen-year-old girl.

“So far everything looks good,” he reported. “Are you feeling any discomfort, milady?”

“Nothing beyond hearing a slight buzz and sometimes a thump,” she replied, “which I assume is from the magnets—electromagnets?”

“Aye, very good.” He kept an eye on the images as he explained the theory behind the procedure in a fair bit of detail, noting the increase in activity as she listened and the marked jump once she started a low heterodyne hum under her breath, evidently to block out the interference from the magnets. The readings spiked again as she started asking application questions, most of which weren’t terribly outlandish despite the rising level of excitement and disconcerting edge in her voice. When she started asking how to make liquid helium, he realized she was trying to figure out how to make an MRI machine from scratch.

When he asked her, she replied, “Yes, yes! Although I suppose I ought to see whether Dr. Sun already has one—but even if he did, it may have been destroyed when the hospital was attacked.” The next batch of images showed yet another spike in brain activity as she continued, “Those _fools_ who besieged Mechanicsburg _dared_ to shell the hospital in an attempt to kill the baron. HA! I wish I had found out who gave that order so I could have let the Jägers teach him better than to attack the sick and wounded. Oh, well, the baron’s forces probably killed him anyway. And if they did not, the castle probably did.”

Slightly alarmed, Carson looked at Lady Mondarev, who smirked. “We told you she is a madgirl.”

“And that is all Agatha,” Krosp added. “Lucrezia would be upset only that they might have killed another copy of her that was in the hospital.”

At almost the same moment, Lady Heterodyne continued in a less dangerous tone, “Of course, Zola was in the hospital, too; I suppose she is my first cousin. She tried to steal my castle and set herself up as the Heterodyne, all to aid someone—either Tarvek or Martellus, probably—in his bid to become the Storm King and overthrow the baron. She talked Mother into copying herself into her brain, too.” The latest spike ended in the next images, though her brain activity was still far higher than an average person’s, as she went on. “I do not know whether to hope she was killed, although if the baron escaped the hospital, she might have as well. If she did, we will have to trace her—I will have to get Tarvek to help me with that, assuming we can cure him of the poison.”

“Er, right,” said Carson. “Milady, if you can relax a moment, while I get one last set of baseline images?”

“All right,” she replied and did so. Astonishingly, her brain did in fact return to baseline.

“Very good, thank you.” He pulled a plastic toothpick out of his pocket and went over to the table. “Now, just for reference, I think I had better stop your locket for a wee bit.”

She sighed. “Very well. I apologize in advance for anything she says or does.”

“Understood. Lady Mondarev, would you come watch the monitor?” He rolled the computer cart out of the patient’s line of sight but still within his own peripheral vision. “I need at least three sets of images for comparison. Signal me when you’ve got the third.”

“Signal you how?” Lady Mondarev asked, coming over to take his seat.

“Just a thumbs-up or something.”

“Yes, I can do that.”

“Right, here we go.” He gently opened the locket, moved Bill Heterodyne’s portrait out of the way, and cautiously inserted the toothpick in a strategic point to stop the tiny gears from turning just before the next block of image recording began.

Lady Heterodyne groaned—and then her face took on a look of unholy glee as she cried, “ _Ach, hier bin ich wieder! Wie schön!_ ”* Then she blinked as she took in the bore of the coils and tried unsuccessfully to move. “ _Ähm...._ ”

“Hullo, Lady Mongfish,” he said.

Lady Mongfish looked at him as best she could and smiled very differently from her daughter—sweetly, but with a seductive glint in her eyes. “Oh! Why, hello, there. Am I in England?”

“No, milady, and I’m afraid I haven’t time to explain. Prince Tarvek and Prince Martellus had a bit of a set-to, and now Prince Tarvek’s dying and Prince Martellus has been captured.” Strict truth, this!

“Oh. Oh, dear. What about Leopold?”

“I haven’t heard, milady. But your daughter’s taken Mechanicsburg, and the Council’s concerned about what she may be planning next. They managed to get her out through the cathedral portal, and they’ve sent me to separate the two of you and get you to safety.”

“And what about my daughter?”

Carson smiled the way he had when he’d tricked a Wraith into feeding on him after discovering Michael had treated him with the Wraith-killing Hoffan drug. “Leave her to me.”

“Ooh, perhaps I will,” she purred. “Be a dear and take this locket off, will you?”

He pretended to fumble with the clasp for several seconds, then shook his head. “It’s no good. There’s a lock on it. And with all these magnets about, I don’t dare bring any tools over to cut it off.”

She huffed and pouted, then frowned at the bore. “What magnets?”

“Ah, it’s a test for—er, really, I’ll have to explain it once you’re out of here.”

“Hmph. Seems Count Wolkerstorfer finally did something right, if you are actually using his work. He has always been obsessed with magnets, you know; it annoyed my father no end.”

He chuckled. “Yes, so I’d heard.”

Her voice dropped and took on an even more seductive tone, as did her smirk. “But surely there must be _some_ other way to stop the locket from working, and I would be... _very grateful_ , if you understand me.”

“Oh, aye, milady,” he breathed as if he were actually affected by her advances. “Quite well.”

“So?”

“Right. Let me just—” He jiggled the toothpick a bit until Lady Mondarev flashed him a thumbs-up. “Almost—” And he slid the toothpick out of the works, which immediately started up again.

Lady Mongfish gasped. “No, you _imbecIIIIIIIIILE_ —” Then she gasped again, and Lady Heterodyne said, “Oh! _Ce_ —er—how-how did it go, Herr Doktor?”

Carson smiled kindly, closed the locket, and patted her shoulder. “Like clockwork, milady. No problems. Let’s get you out of there.”

* * *

Martellus sighed as he lay on the bench in his cell and stared at the ceiling. Reality had not reasserted itself to his specifications in the two days or so since he had first awakened here. He was always watched, even though his cell was secure; a few minor shocks had convinced him that the energy barrier between the bars was always on unless the cell door was open. And the cell door never opened except to admit a servant to deliver or remove his meal tray, during which time extra guards came in to stop him from attempting to make a break for it, or when he was escorted to and from the nearest water closet. (He _had_ attempted to run during one such excursion, only to be stunned by an energy blast before he could get even a meter down the corridor. It was grossly unfair.) Nor was he allowed anything to read, anything to write with, anything to build, not even any conversation except when Herr Woolsey or Col. Sheppard came to interrogate him about Tarvek and Lady Heterodyne.

The only thing keeping him from dying of sheer boredom was the notion that this might be some elaborate test of his endurance, proving his worth to be the Storm King. After all, the Queen of the Mines had held Andronicus Valois captive for months until Van Rijn had freed him with Prende’s Chronometric Lantern. No true Valois heir would capitulate or despair after only three days. Martellus could wait forever if it meant reclaiming Europa from that wretched upstart Wulfenbach.

His reverie was interrupted, however, when the energy barrier suddenly flashed and lowered. Surprised because it wasn’t yet mealtime, Martellus turned his head to look at the cell door as it opened to admit a white-haired Jäger in a black greatcoat. The Jäger studied him a moment, then nodded to the guards; one of the guards did something that produced an odd chime, and the cell door closed again.

“Good afternoon, Prince Martellus,” the Jäger said—in English, with an oddly distorted voice.

Martellus frowned and sat up. “Why do you speak English?” he asked, using the same language on a whim.

“I did not think you would understand the language of my kind.”

“Mechanicsburgisch is hardly unintelligible to anyone who speaks Romanian.”

“But I am not from Mechanicsburg. In fact, I had lived thousands of years before even the earliest tribesmen discovered the source of the Dyne.”

Martellus’s frown deepened. “Then what are you?”

“I am Wraith.”

Martellus scoffed and stood. “So what, has that little toad Woolsey sent you to scare me?”

The so-called Wraith chuckled. “My appearance may not be the most fearsome you have seen. But hear me, little prince: I am far more dangerous and far more powerful than you know.” It looked him in the eye. “Kneel.”

He laughed. “What is this?”

 _KNEEL!_ thundered in his head, and to his astonishment, he crashed to his knees.

“What... what are you....”

“Ah, such defiance,” the Wraith purred with a wicked smile that vanished almost as suddenly as it had appeared. “Now. The poison on your knives. Is it your own invention?”

Martellus gritted his teeth, but memories of testing the Nullabist potion flashed through his mind.

“Ah, I see. And is there an antidote?”

“Go to hell.”

 _Is there an antidote?_ the Wraith’s voice insisted in his head as one black-clawed finger ran down his cheek.

Martellus struggled a moment longer before “No” was wrung from him. “No point. No time.”

“Hmmm. Speak to me of Lady Heterodyne.”

 _The baron’s son will **kill** you if you try to harm her_, Tarvek’s voice stole through his memory, _but only if **I don’t do it first**._

“Then you did mean her harm,” the Wraith growled.

“Only at first,” Martellus growled back.

“Then why did you take her through the portal?”

“I was... rescuing her....”

“To what purpose?”

“No... I will not....”

 _What did you want with her?_ the Wraith pressed.

Martellus shut his eyes, but flashes of imagination surfaced—dragging her into his secret lab in the Refuge of Storms, dosing her with Great-Aunt Rappaccini’s formula, and then... her riding starry-eyed at his side into Vienna for the coronation, her adoring look as the archbishop pronounced them married... and the wedding night, ah, how she would giggle and simper as he prepared her and put her on the bed, how she would beg for his touch before he had his way with her—

Clawed hands grabbed the front of his jumpsuit as the Wraith snarled and snatched him off the ground, and suddenly he was slammed against the bars and screamed as the shock from the energy barrier went on and on. He had no idea how much time passed, what finally made the Wraith stop holding him off the ground. And then he was falling, tossed aside like a worn-out rag doll, landing on his back hard enough to knock the remaining air from his lungs.

He had barely enough time to draw a few gasping breaths and register the Wraith’s boots walking away before his muscles twitched, then seized, and everything went black.

* * *

Ever since learning that Todd had met Agatha at lunch and seemed to like her, John had had a hunch that he’d be needed if Todd’s interrogation of von Blitzengaard got out of hand. He hadn’t anticipated needing to call a medical team because Todd had shocked von Blitzengaard into a grand mal seizure. Before John could yell at Todd over it, however, Todd stalked out of von Blitzengaard’s cell and into the room that housed the other cell of the brig, then stopped in front of the empty cell’s door, clenching and unclenching his fists. John, who’d followed, was about to say something when he realized what was happening.

Todd was quite literally shaking with rage.

“I have done many things to gain power,” Todd said quietly without turning around, apparently sensing John’s presence. “I have stolen, killed, lied, betrayed. You know this better than most.”

“Yeah,” John replied just as softly. “I do.”

“Tell me truly, John Sheppard. When Teyla agreed to pose as my queen to meet with the Primary of my alliance regarding the gene therapy... was it her own choice, freely made?”

“Yes, it was. She didn’t do it for you.” And she almost certainly wouldn’t have gone through with it if any of them had realized that Todd was going to kill the Primary and grab control of the alliance for himself, ostensibly as Teyla’s regent, but there was no point in mentioning that now.

Todd let out what might have been a long sigh of relief, but he didn’t relax any. “It has been many years since I took worshippers. But we only condition, train the mind to accept our lordship, our philosophy. The servant is of no value if he can no longer _think_.”

John waited, but when Todd said no more, he asked, “What was he gonna do to Lady Heterodyne?”

“He would have forced her to become his queen. His _mate_. He would have overthrown her _mind_.”

John raised his chin in understanding. Wraith society, like that of the bugs they’d evolved from, was matriarchal. He’d encountered clearly male scientists like Todd and essentially genderless warrior drones, but with the tragic exception of one teen raised by humans, every female Wraith he’d ever seen was a queen, feared and honored and obeyed without question. Todd was unusual in his willingness to live without a queen ruling him, but even he had deferred to Teyla on occasion and seemed to respect Col. Carter’s authority when she’d been in command of Atlantis. And whatever Wraith mating looked like—John really didn’t want to know—Todd’s reaction to whatever he’d seen in von Blitzengaard’s mind made it plain that rape was not just unconscionable but unthinkable to them.

“In the old days,” Todd went on in a low growl, “I would not have made him run. I would not have made him serve. I would have _tortured him until he no longer knew his own name_.”

John nodded slowly. “Are you sorry you can’t?”

Todd huffed and relaxed at last, and only then did he turn his head to look at John with a small but genuine smile. “No. It was merely an observation.”

John smiled back. “C’mon. Let’s go brief Woolsey.”

* * *

* Ah, I’m back! How lovely! 


	4. Part 1, Chapter 4: A Mystery Solved

“He may have sustained permanent brain damage!” Dr. Keller was shouting as Agatha, Violetta, Krosp, and Teyla made their way up the Gateroom stairs toward the conference room early that evening.

“Look in my eyes and see if I care,” Col. Sheppard shot back.

“I don’t believe this. How can you say that?”

“You read Todd’s report. You know what he was gonna do to her. He’s damn lucky I stopped it before Todd killed him outright.”

“I could destroy your career over this.”

“Do you really wanna go there, Jennifer? _Do you?_ Because it’s bad enough you’re defending a would-be rapist—”

“I AM NOT! You’re the one defending cruel and unusual—”

“The Eighth Amendment does not apply out here, and you know it!”

“Oh, dear,” Teyla murmured.

“What is he talking about?” Agatha asked quietly.

“The Eighth Amendment to the American Constitution prohibits cruel and unusual punishment of prisoners.”

“Oh.” Agatha tried briefly to picture such a law passing in Europa, then shook her head at the idea of anyone being able to define precisely what would be considered _unusual_ punishment (cruelty, alas, was quite common). “Er, perhaps we should come back later.”

Teyla shook her head, but before she could say anything more, Herr Woolsey came out of what was apparently his office. He shot a glance at the conference room before walking over to Agatha’s group. “Ah, Lady Heterodyne,” he said apologetically. “There was an... altercation earlier between Todd and Prince Martellus. My report’s going to state that there was an accident, that Todd didn’t know we’d recalibrated the force field protecting the cell and didn’t think pushing His Highness into the bars would result in the severity of shock His Highness actually received.”

Agatha blinked. “Oh. I see. And... the cause of this accident?”

“Todd got Prince Martellus to confess that he’d planned to drug you and force you to marry him.”

Agatha felt herself go pale, but then her blood boiled. “Well. Accidents happen. He is only fortunate that Atlantis is not Castle Heterodyne.”

Herr Woolsey hummed thoughtfully. “Well, we should go in. Dr. McKay and Dr. Zelenka said they’ve worked out what happened to bring you here; they’ll be along any moment.”

Agatha nodded, and her group followed him toward the conference room, where Col. Sheppard and Dr. Keller were still arguing.

“You know what?” Col. Sheppard said just as they got to the row of open doors leading into the conference room. “If you wanna do this, if you _really_ want to go there, I’ve got no problem telling the board of review _exactly_ what happened when McKay had Second Childhood.”

Dr. Keller paled. “What do you mean?”

“That _you_ tried to deny life-saving measures to the head of another department, and if Jeannie hadn’t gotten here in time and used her authority as next of kin to overrule you, McKay. Would. Be. Dead.”

“I was there,” Herr Dex rumbled from his seat at the long mahogany table. “I’ll back him up.”

“As will I,” Teyla chimed in.

Dr. Keller looked around at them, her hazel eyes wide with panic. “Wait a minute, you guys—”

Col. Sheppard stepped forward, pressing his advantage. “And there’s the little matter of that video where McKay _supposedly_ confessed his love for you, the one you watched over and over for weeks....”

“All right! All right, I... I won’t report you to the Air Force. But I’m not signing off on Mr. Woolsey’s version, either.”

Herr Woolsey turned to Dr. Beckett, who was sitting beside Herr Dex looking grim. “Dr. Beckett?”

“Oh, aye, I’ll sign,” Dr. Beckett stated. “I do understand Dr. Keller’s objections, but as far as I’m concerned, von Blitzengaard’s no better than Michael.”

“He’s still a human!” Dr. Keller cried.

“I would not bet on that,” Violetta stated.

Dr. Keller stared at her incredulously. “How can you say that? He’s your _cousin!_ ”

“I have exactly one cousin who is anywhere close to being a decent human being, and that is Tarvek—whom Martellus has poisoned.”

“In _my_ city,” Agatha added. “If that had happened in Beetleburg, Dr. Beetle would have put him in a bell jar on the quadrangle and left him to rot. In Mechanicsburg... well, you remember what I told you of Castle Heterodyne. Believe me, Frau Doktor, if he was only electrocuted and lives nonetheless, he is fortunate indeed.”

“It still shouldn’t have happened,” Dr. Keller said weakly.

“Perhaps not. But can anyone truly say the outcome was foreknown, that it was allowed with malice aforethought?”

Dr. Keller grimaced. “No.”

“And can you say with certainty that Todd did know the force field had been recalibrated?”

“... No.”

“Then there is no evidence to contradict Herr Woolsey’s claim, is there?”

Dr. Keller sighed heavily and sat down.*

Just then two other men with blue-trimmed jackets, presumably Dr. McKay and Dr. Zelenka, arrived and looked at the others warily. “Did... we miss something?” asked the blue-eyed man with thinning hair (McKay?).

“Yeah, and that’s probably a good thing,” Col. Sheppard replied, ushering Agatha, Violetta, and Krosp to seats on the opposite side of the table from Dr. Keller before sitting down next to Dr. Beckett.

Teyla sat between Col. Sheppard and Agatha, and Herr Woolsey sat at the head of the table as the doors swung shut. The latecomers looked at each other and shrugged, then sat down next to Dr. Keller, who smiled tightly at the man who was probably Dr. McKay.

“Well,” Herr Woolsey said with an air of calling the meeting to order. “Now that we’re all here... Dr. Beckett, what have you found?”

“Well, I can definitely confirm that Lady Heterodyne’s locket is suppressing a second consciousness that is not the result of Multiple Personality Disorder,” Dr. Beckett replied. “The overall pattern of brain activity changes completely when Lady Mongfish is in control, and there’s one specific area where little to no activity occurs while the locket is engaged but that becomes very active when the locket is disabled. And having spoken with Lady Mongfish, I can tell she’s a totally different person. The advantage of the locket is that we won’t have to worry about Lady Heterodyne suffering the kind of strain Dr. McKay faced under similar circumstances when Lt. Cadman’s consciousness was trapped in his mind.”

Dr. McKay grimaced. “I thought we agreed never to speak of that again.”

“Sorry, Rodney, it’s the closest parallel.”

Agatha frowned. “What kind of strain did he suffer?”

Dr. McKay sighed. “Look, the base psychologist recommended that I try sharing control with Cadman, but when Cadman would take over, she did all kinds of stuff that I’d never do. We fought over it... and then I started having seizures, and it was affecting my heart....”

“If we hadn’t been able to separate them,” added the other man, with sandy madboy hair and glasses—Dr. Zelenka, probably, given his accent—“either the stress would have killed him, or one consciousness would have died and left the other in control.”

Agatha hissed.

“But we don’t have to worry about that, milady, like I said,” Dr. Beckett repeated. “The locket eliminates the conflict between personalities.”

“Yes, but I received it just in time,” Agatha replied. “Before I got it back, we _did_ fight for control. I could not wake up unless she went to sleep, but when I went to sleep, she would wake up... my body was getting no rest at all.”

“But separation is possible, correct?” Herr Woolsey asked.

Dr. Beckett nodded. “Aye, using the same method we used to separate Rodney and Cadman.” He turned to Agatha. “Wraith fighters—they’re called Darts—have a device that uses a beam of light to dematerialize a person, store the pattern in a buffer, and rematerialize him or her at the other end. That’s how they capture their prisoners. We have access to some intact Darts from a hive that crashed here a few years ago; we can use the control crystal from the Gate to stabilize the circuit if we have to. But it won’t be difficult to separate your consciousness from your mother’s while you’re in the buffer and rematerialize you in separate bodies.”

Dr. McKay frowned. “Wait, where are you going to get the matter for the second body? That only worked with us because Cadman’s pattern was still in storage.”

“Well, we’ve a handful of options, really. Wraith cloning is right out, as that copies the consciousness as well as the body. My first choice would be Asgard cloning, since that’s capable of copying only the body; it would still be a living, breathing human form, just with a completely blank slate for Lady Mongfish’s mind to move into. But if we can’t get hold of the technology, then what we do have here in the city is the Replicator table.”

Herr Woolsey frowned. “I’m not sure I can authorize that, Doctor.”

“I’m aware of the risks, Mr. Woolsey,” Dr. Beckett stated. “Believe me, it’s far from my first choice, even if we adjust it to make a nanite-built human body. But if it’s a choice between that and leaving Lady Mongfish in Lady Heterodyne’s mind, I’d have to recommend that we chance it.”

“Perhaps it should wait until we are nearly ready to leave,” Agatha suggested. “You are having trouble enough with Martellus; it may be best not to have my mother separately in custody any longer than necessary to avoid giving her time to find a way to escape. And that could give you the time to find this... Asgard?”

“Little grey aliens,” Col. Sheppard explained. “Passed themselves off as the Norse gods in the Milky Way. We got a rogue branch here in Pegasus, weren’t nearly as keen to ally themselves with us as the others had been to ally with Earth.”

“Oh. Huh.”

Herr Woolsey nodded. “All right, assuming we have time to locate an Asgard cloning facility, I’ll authorize the search. We should check with Stargate Command, too, to see if there’s anything in the Asgard database that would allow us to construct our own.”

Dr. Beckett nodded back. “Thank you.”

“And you foresee no other problems with Lady Heterodyne’s remaining here in Atlantis?”

“Well, she should avoid strong electromagnetic fields that could damage the locket, and with an ATA gene as strong as hers, she shouldn’t go exploring on her own. But other than that, aye, I think it’s perfectly safe.”

“Thank you, Doctor.” Herr Woolsey turned to Agatha. “Even now, a large portion of the city remains unexplored, and we have found a significant number of dangerous, even lethal, experiments the Ancients left behind. We don’t want anyone accidentally activating another one. So for that reason, please do either stay in well-traveled portions of the base or ask for an escort before you go anywhere.”

Agatha nodded. “That is quite reasonable, Herr Woolsey. We will do so.”

“I also wanted to discuss the objects you built while you were asleep these last few days.”

She blushed slightly. “Is there a problem?”

“Well, the death rays we’ve put in our armory for safekeeping. There’s nothing wrong with them; that’s just standard practice here. It’s the other robots you built, the small ones, that _could_ be a problem.”

“My little helpers? Why?”

“They’re self-replicating.”

“And?”

Herr Woolsey sighed. “I see you haven’t heard about our problems with the Replicators. They were a form of robot developed by the Ancients, originally to fight the Wraith. But they’ve been the scourge of four galaxies. They overran the Ida Galaxy, forcing the Asgard to flee to the Othalla Galaxy, and even there they weren’t completely able to eradicate the threat. In the Milky Way, we had to resort to an Ancient superweapon to destroy the Replicator swarms before they could wipe out all human life. And here in Pegasus, we prompted them to attack the Wraith, but they concluded the best way to do that was by a scorched-earth method, destroying human worlds to eliminate the Wraith’s food source.”

Agatha felt the blood drain from her face. “But... my little clanks would not do such a thing. They are made to assist in the lab. I have to wind them every day. And by the fourth generation, they are not capable of making more.”

Herr Woolsey shook his head. “I’m sorry, Lady Heterodyne. I can’t take the risk of your losing control of them. We’ve already dismantled the ones you made, and I have to ask that you not make any more.”

Agatha sighed heavily. “Very well. I do understand.”

“She may not be able to stop herself when she is in fugue,” Krosp cautioned.

“But we can watch,” Violetta noted. “And if we cannot stop her, we can stop them from spreading.”

Herr Woolsey nodded once. “Fair enough. Thank you.”

“And how are you going to monitor 24/7?” Dr. McKay challenged. “What if she keeps sleepwalking?”

“She is rested and aware that her surroundings are safe,” Krosp replied. “I have been with her long enough to know that the chances of her continuing to sleepwalk are practically zero.”

“And we can have the city keep an eye on her, too,” said Col. Sheppard. “You know Lantea never sleeps.”

“Yes, well, that’s what we need, some kind of 24/7 surveillance at least,” grumbled Dr. McKay. “She’s probably going to be here a while.”

Agatha’s heart sank.

“Ah,” said Herr Woolsey. “I take it, then, that you and Dr. Zelenka are still working on the problem of return.”

“There are complications,” Dr. Zelenka replied. “And there is still a great deal of uncertainty in the math—”

Dr. McKay nodded. “Yes, yes, but while we may never know the exact _how_ , we do at least know _what_ caused the malfunction, thanks to the data burst we got from Earth in this morning’s scheduled dial-out. There were actually three interlaced energy signatures in the wormhole, not two, and now we know why.” He started to get up but paused and looked at Agatha. “Ah, Lady Heterodyne, you are familiar with the concept of the space-time continuum?”

“It is still new to me,” Agatha replied, “but Teyla has explained—the, eh, fabric of the universe through which the wormholes tunnel.”

“Yes, good, exactly. Okay.” He stood, picked up a small device, and pressed a button on it, and what had looked like an empty black picture frame on the wall lit up in the center. “It turns out we _do_ have some knowledge of your story in this universe, thanks to a webcomic called _Girl Genius_. We can... explain what a webcomic is some other time. Unfortunately, it’s still a work in progress, so we don’t know everything that happened. But fortunately, the story’s far enough along to have filled in some blanks that you couldn’t have known about.” He pressed another button...

... and the picture frame displayed a caricature of the thing that had been falling toward Mechanicsburg when Martellus grabbed Agatha, one of Jäger Gen. “Mamma” Gkika challenging it, and its door opening to reveal... Baron Wulfenbach with a round device in his hand. Agatha, Violetta, and Krosp gasped in unison.

Col. Sheppard frowned. “Who is that?”

“The baron,” Agatha answered.

Dr. McKay changed the image to show Mamma Gkika attacking the baron and demanding his surrender and the baron pretending to surrender before pressing a button on whatever the device was. Reading the conversation in English was strange, especially given the artist’s rendition of an Old Mechanicsburg accent in Mamma Gkika’s speech, but Agatha was more focused on the action anyway.

“Apparently the button was just a trigger,” Dr. McKay explained. “The device activated about five seconds later, at the exact moment you four entered the portal. And that has caused all sorts of problems.”

“The most recent updates,” Dr. Zelenka continued, “show that the device created a... like a bubble surrounding the town of Mechanicsburg inside which time has stopped.”

“And what that initially meant for _you_ was that you arrived at the Refuge of Storms two and a half years into the future. That accounts for the first energy signature in the wormhole, although it was overshadowed by the other two.”

“Also why we thought it looked like a solar flare, which can redirect a passing wormhole to a different point in time. Most of the time it merely returns the wormhole to the starting Gate a few decades earlier or later, but there have been some occasions when the wormhole connected to the receiving Gate, generally with a much greater time difference. Col. Sheppard once had the misfortune to be sent 48,000 years into the future.”

Dr. Beckett frowned. “When was this?”

“After we found you,” Col. Sheppard replied, “when we were still lookin’ for Teyla.”

“Ah, right. Sorry, Rodney.”

Dr. McKay shrugged off the interruption. “The portal device in the Refuge of Storms wasn’t nearly as robust as a Stargate, and faced with the power surge from that kind of incoming wormhole, it melted down as soon as you came through. That _should_ have shut down the wormhole completely. But since time was frozen at the point of origin... y’know, that’s one scenario that’s never come up in almost twenty years of Gate travel.”

“McKay,” Col. Sheppard warned.

“Right, right. Now, the comic has progressed only as far as you three making your getaway from the Refuge of Storms; Lady Heterodyne’s been rescued by the Jägers, and Lady Mondarev’s just been caught by Gil, who is looking extremely messed up and not at all sane.”

Dr. Zelenka nodded. “But he’s been trying to find a way to undo the time stop to rescue his father and, he thought, also you.”

“Assuming he finds a way to get to the device and assuming he’s desperate, under some kind of time pressure, or just not thinking straight, or possibly all three, what’s the easiest way to shut it down?”

“Blow it up,” said Herr Dex.

Dr. McKay nodded once and pointed to him. “Which, as you may recall, was the solution you offered when we were trapped on an alternate version of the _Daedalus_ with a malfunctioning alternate reality drive. And my response was?”

“Could rip a hole in space-time and kill us.”

“Well, more than just us, but yes.”

Agatha’s blood ran cold. “What are you saying?”

Dr. McKay grimaced. “Having that portal still open on the Mechanicsburg end, forming a weak point in space-time, makes it far more likely that blowing up the time-stop device would tear a hole in the fabric of the universe. The rift probably opened at or near the event horizon of the portal, and if the device still had a copy of you in its buffer, that would account for the fact that you came through in one piece on the other side.”

“Yes, but the tear would have unleashed an immense amount of energy,” Dr. Zelenka added. “To dial the Stargate between Earth and Atlantis requires what is known as a Zero Point Module—it extracts vacuum energy from a self-contained region of subspace, like a-a miniature universe in a bottle. Just for reference, it takes three ZPMs for the city to fly. This event in your universe would have been many times stronger than that. Given the energy required to redirect the wormhole through the rift, through the centuries, across the intergalactic void....”

Dr. McKay looked Agatha in the eye for the first time and concluded sadly, “It probably destroyed your entire solar system.”

Agatha’s vision went grey around the edges. “No... _no_....”

“I’m sorry, Lady Heterodyne.”

But before Agatha could break down, she was gripped by the same Spark-fueled rage that had swept over her outside Sturmhalten when Baron Wulfenbach, in retaliation for her mother’s having just snared him with the only wasp in the world capable of enslaving a spark, had killed her would-be boyfriend, nearly killed Zeetha, and ordered the slaughter of the circus. “No,” she declared as she shot to her feet. “We stand in the jewel of the Ancients, in a great company of sparks. Do not tell me there is no hope, no way to go back.”

“There’s no planet left for you to return to!”

“I mean _go back_ —an hour, two hours, five, ten, early enough to save Gil and Tarvek, to stop the baron, to save _everyone_.”

“Look, you heard what Zelenka said about the power requirements.”

“Then we find a way to reduce them. Return to the Milky Way, leave from another planet, use a solar flare to reach the correct time and only then try to cross back through the rift. There _has_ to be a way. And if you will not help me,” she added, knowing her tone was growing dangerous and not caring at all, “then I will find that way myself. But I cannot allow my people, my city, my _planet_ , to come to such a fate. I must fix this or die trying. _I am the Heterodyne!_ ” she concluded, and all the mugs on the table rattled.

Herr Woolsey cleared his throat quietly. “I understand this is difficult news, Lady Heterodyne. Perhaps we should all take the evening off and come back to the problem fresh in the morning.”

Agatha frowned at him. “You do not forbid me?”

“No, I don’t. If our Earth were destroyed, or if such a thing happened to Atlantis, I’m sure we’d all at least consider whether it would be possible to go back and undo the damage. And there have been times when such a plan has worked. But there are many ramifications to consider beyond the scientific possibility, and I think we all need at least one night to sleep on it.”

“He has a point, Agatha,” Krosp said quietly. “Nothing back there will change overnight. We can take tonight to... to....”

“To mourn,” Violetta concluded, putting a hand on Agatha’s arm. “And tomorrow we can start the work to bring them back.”

Agatha took a deep, ragged breath and let it out again, and the rage drained away as she did so. Then she nodded. “All right. Herr Woolsey, is... is there a piano somewhere that I could play for a while?”

Dr. McKay raised a finger. “Er, actually, I got one for my birthday a couple of years ago. I... don’t normally let other people play it, but under the circumstances, I... it would be selfish of me not to share.”

“That is most kind of you, Herr Doktor. Thank you.”

“All right,” said Herr Woolsey kindly. “Dismissed.”

“Do you mind if we come with you?” Teyla asked as everyone else stood, indicating herself and Herr Dex.

Agatha blinked. “Why?”

“You might need the support.”

Agatha shrugged. “All right. No, I do not mind.”

Teyla smiled and Herr Dex nodded once, and they followed Agatha, Violetta, and Krosp to the door, where Dr. McKay was waiting for them.

“Hey, um,” Dr. McKay began as he led them out, “sorry for what I said about the whole sleepwalking thing. I just... Replicators kinda make me grouchy. I mean, I managed once to make one that wasn’t a menace, but she—it was basically a walking self-destruct mechanism that we smuggled onto the Replicators’ homeworld to destroy all the ones we could catch there. And it really is massively unsafe for you to wander around by yourself. I just... need to learn when to keep my mouth shut.”

Agatha managed to smile. “Thank you for your concern, Herr Doktor. I am sure that I have much to learn.”

“Ah. Yes. So... the quadrangle in Beetleburg you mentioned, is that at a university?”

“Yes, Transylvania Polygnostic. I was a student there until Dr. Beetle was killed.”

Dr. McKay made a slightly distressed noise. “I’m sorry. I’m no good at small talk. I’ll shut up now.”

“It was kind of you to try.”

The remainder of the journey was mercifully short, as the room where Dr. McKay had set up his piano was near a transporter on the north pier. “I really don’t recommend that you come out here alone,” he said as he led the group to the door. “Most of this building is still unexplored. But here we are.” He waved his hand in front of a panel beside the door, and the door slid open to reveal a bright room with large west-facing windows. A sleek black baby grand piano sat in the center of the space, and there were a few chairs and settees—seating for eight, probably. “Pretty much nobody else knows this room is here, and it’s soundproofed, so y’know, you can play as loud as you want. Just... don’t break the keyboard or anything. Kind of hard to get a repairman out here.”

Agatha chuckled. “I will be careful. Thank you.”

Dr. McKay hesitated a moment. “You’re not wrong, Lady Heterodyne. I apparently did the same thing when Sheppard was missing. And I can’t tell you how many times we’ve been the ones who’ve had to save Atlantis or Earth or one galaxy, the other, both. So it’s... it’s good that you want to try. And if there’s a way, we’ll find it. You just need to be aware that there might not be.”

She looked him in the eye. “The laws of physics were made to be broken, were they not?”

He suddenly broke into a sideways smile. “You know what? I like that attitude. Hey, maybe we can get you set up with a lab on the mainland or offworld or something, someplace where your experiments wouldn’t be a risk to the rest of the base.”

“If it is possible, I would like that. Thank you.”

“Right! Well, I... won’t keep you. See you at supper?”

“Perhaps. Thank you again, Herr Doktor.”

Dr. McKay smiled and nodded and left, and the rest of the group filed into the room. Violetta was the last in and closed the door behind her. Krosp took one chair; Violetta took another; and Teyla and Herr Dex sat down together on a settee. Agatha, meanwhile, sat down at the piano and rested her hands on the keys, unsure what to play.

Finally, she let her fingers drift as she thought of Mechanicsburg, its bright mountain sun and the dark legacy of the Heterodynes, its fire and strength and its willingness to love a lost orphan girl because she belonged to the town as much as the town belonged to her. She thought of Adam and Lilith and their little house in Beetleburg, helping Adam in the machine shop and Lilith in the kitchen, of playing a duet with Lilith while their construct friends danced despite their awkwardness, of Adam giving her silent comfort when she wept over her own frustrations. She thought of the circus and its Heterodyne shows, its strangeness and its kindness, its courage in battle and its wisdom in disappearing to England after Sturmhalten. She thought of wild, wonderful Zeetha, the best friend she’d ever had, and of other friends like the Jägers, her cousin Theo DuMedd, her former roommate Sleipnir O’Hara. She thought of Tarvek and his schemes, of his willingness to help her and her triumph in saving him with the Si Vales Valeo. And she thought of Gil, warm, wonderful Gil, who’d risked his life for her, who’d believed in her when everyone else thought she was stupid old Agatha Clay, who’d built a mechanical orchestra just so he could dance with her to his own music...

—the same tune, she realized with a start, that she was playing now. She jerked her fingers off the keys as if they burned.

“That was beautiful,” Teyla said. “Why did you stop?”

Agatha swallowed hard. “Gil s-said he wrote that in P-P-Paris....” Her voice broke, and she shut her eyes to try to stave off the tears.

She suddenly felt someone sit down next to her on the piano bench and sensed someone else coming over to stand next to the piano. She could almost believe she was back in Beetleburg with Adam and Lilith, but of course she wasn’t, couldn’t be.

Gil had gone to so much trouble to save them after they’d been killed helping her escape Castle Wulfenbach. And to what end?

“Hey,” said Herr Dex, and Agatha peeled open her eyes to find that he was the person leaning his hip against the piano, looking down at her with compassionate brown eyes. “’Bout fifteen years ago, the Wraith attacked my planet, Sateda. I was captured. They put a tracker in my back, made me a Runner, hunted me all over the galaxy for seven years. Teyla, Col. Sheppard, Dr. Beckett... they saved me. Then when we came back to Atlantis, they sent a camera....” He swallowed hard. “Sateda was destroyed. For a while, I thought I was the only one left.”

One traitorous tear slipped down Agatha’s cheek.

Herr Dex shifted uncomfortably. “Anyway, my point is... I’ve been there. I know what it’s like. I know how it hurts.”

“As do I,” said Teyla. “The day Dr. Keller and I discovered that my people had been captured was one of the worst days of my life. And it was not long after that I learned I was pregnant, and my child’s father was among the missing.”

Agatha sniffled. “You have a child?”

“A son, Torren John. He has been spending some time with my people, but I will bring him home later this week. He gets very lonely here sometimes because he’s the only child in Atlantis.”

Agatha was appalled. “This whole wonderful city, and only one child?!”

“Eh, to Earth, it’s a military base and a research outpost,” said Herr Dex. “But that’s gonna change soon. Bunch of us are goin’ to Earth next month; Gen. O’Neill’s retiring, big promotion ceremony for a lot of people. Me and Amelia, we’re gonna get married.”

Teyla nodded. “Yes, and we think more of the married people stationed here will begin receiving permission to move their families into the city. But Atlantis is not a safe place for children who won’t follow rules and run off to play where they have no permission to be. My people discovered that within their first month living here; we had to move most of them to the mainland in part to prevent the children from unleashing dangerous experiments.”

Another tear rolled down Agatha’s cheek.

Teyla put her arm around Agatha’s shoulders. “Agatha, your desire to undo what was done to your universe is admirable, but it does not mean you cannot grieve for your losses now.”

Herr Dex nodded. “Like I said. We’ve been there.”

And that was all the permission Agatha needed to break down and weep. Teyla took Agatha’s glasses, closed the lid over the piano keys, and moved her arm slightly to allow Herr Dex to put a hand on Agatha’s shoulder. Agatha didn’t know how long she cried, but it was enough to leave her feeling hollowed out.

As she finally fumbled for her handkerchief, Herr Dex patted her shoulder, straightened, and turned to Violetta. “How ’bout you?”

Krosp had taken off his coat and was curled up in Violetta’s lap, and she was petting him absently; Agatha couldn’t tell who was comforting whom. But Violetta took a deep breath and shook her head. “I stopped crying for dead relatives when I was five. My lady lives; that is what matters.”

Teyla handed Agatha her glasses. “My people have a memorial tea ceremony. If you three would care to join me?”

Agatha put on her glasses, sniffled, and nodded. “I think that would help. Thank you, both of you.”

Herr Dex actually smiled. “Anytime.”

* * *

* I don’t actually dislike Keller, but she does have an... idiosyncratic view of medical ethics. 


	5. Interlude: How to Entertain Your Heterodyne

_Give her something to study._

“Oh, good morning, Krosp,” said Woolsey. “Where’s Lady Heterodyne?”

“Hologram room,” Krosp replied between bites of bacon-cheese omelet. “She will probably be there for a few hours yet.”

Woolsey blinked. “A few hours? The hologram’s presentation doesn’t run that long. Is she trying to memorize it?”

“No, but she probably will have by the time she has figured out how it works.”

“Oh, dear.” Woolsey touched his radio. “Dr. Zelenka, would you mind stopping by the hologram room to make sure Lady Heterodyne hasn’t dismantled it?”

Krosp didn’t need to know Czech to understand Zelenka’s response. He decided not to tell anyone that Violetta had confiscated all of Agatha’s tools and ensured that she’d gone in with only a pencil and notepad. When the Spark was on her, Agatha could cause all kinds of havoc with her bare hands.

All the same, it was something of a relief when the only topic about which Agatha and Zelenka were arguing in heated Russian when they walked into the mess hall ten minutes later was the definition of “unaccompanied.” Ah, well, at least these television gadgets looked simple enough not to provide much of a distraction from the content of Daniel Jackson’s instructional videos, which were next on the day’s agenda.

* * *

_Take her offworld for trading missions._

“And then,” Agatha continued explaining the machine she’d just made as a bartering chip, “if you are stitching something really bulky, or if you are hired to quilt a blanket under time constraints or some such, you can use this lever”—she demonstrated—“to extend the arm and table and make it easier to reach the center.”

The seamstress had tears in her eyes. “How can I ever hope to afford such a marvel? The time it will save... the trade it will bring....”

“Well, I hardly want to take _all_ your fabric or anything like that. Perhaps we could arrange credit with other merchants as well?”

When the group returned to the Gate five hours later, Ronon found himself hauling twice the amount of seed they’d been sent to acquire and a sack of beans that had looked interesting, while Violetta carried five large blank books Agatha planned to use for note-taking and Agatha herself carried enough fabric and sewing stuff to make clothes for both girls for a month and a dress for the Lucrezia clone to wear when the time came. Both girls were in standard Atlantis offworld uniforms for this trip, but no one had objected when they’d said they might prefer something closer to what they’d worn back home for everyday wear. At least if Agatha was sewing, she wasn’t building Replicators.

Ronon didn’t tell Agatha he had the sewing machine’s death ray attachment in his pocket. She probably already knew and didn’t care anyway.

* * *

_Train her to fight._

A run through the city at dawn with John and Ronon. Bantos at 8 with Teyla, followed by sword practice with Ronon. Kickboxing with Amelia on Tuesdays. PT with Maj. Anne Teldy’s team on Wednesdays. Target practice every Thursday afternoon with Maj. Evan Lorne.

“I’m _never_ going to have time to get any work done!” Agatha complained, looking over the schedule.

“But look on the bright side,” Violetta replied. “By the time we get home, you should be able to run rings around even Zeetha. Not that you’d necessarily be a match for me,” she added nonchalantly.

Agatha’s eyes narrowed. “You want to bet?”

Krosp chuckled. _Well played, Violetta_ , he thought. _Very well played._

* * *

_Introduce her to movie night._

“We _cannot_ start her off with _Princess Bride_ ,” Rodney insisted.

“Why not?” John asked. “It’s a classic.”

“Hello? ‘Death cannot stop true love; all it can do is delay it for a while’? I don’t care how plucky she is—her world just ended, literally. She gets to that line, she’s gonna start bawling.”

“Yeah, good point. Hadn’t thought about that.”

“Besides, Torren just got home, and you know what he’s gonna ask for.”

John chuckled. “Kid’s got good taste; gotta give him that.”

“You’ve never had popcorn before, seriously?” Amelia was asking Agatha as the next wave arrived.

Agatha and Violetta both shook their heads. “Is it American?” Agatha wondered. “We have had very little contact with the Americas since the Long War began.”

“Yeah. You know about corn, right, maize?”

“Yes. Lilith used to make a corn relish for canning.”

“Well, popcorn’s just a specific variety of corn that pops when you heat it.”

“It’s really good,” Ronon added. “It’s Teyla’s favorite Earth food.”

John looked around and frowned at Rodney. “Jennifer not coming?”

“No,” Rodney replied with a grimace. “She’s still mad at you about von Blitzengaard.”

“How come? He’s just fine, apart from some stuff Carson thinks is genetic.”

“Yeah, well, you know Jennifer.”

John huffed, but anything he was about to say next was forestalled by the arrival of Teyla and Carson, who were swinging Torren between them. “Hey, TJ!” John called. “Wanna help us pick the movie?”

“ _Star Wars_ , please!” Torren replied, running over for hugs.

Rodney shot John a told-you-so smirk and bent down to hug his favorite adopted nephew. John chuckled and waited his turn.

“These moving pictures—they are like plays, then, or operas?” Agatha asked. “I have built devices that record and play back moving images and sound before, but they were more like the hologram projector.”

“A bit of both, actually,” Carson replied. “Most are like plays, but the sets generally don’t look like stages. And then there are musicals, which are more similar to comic opera.”

“Well, most of them are,” Amelia amended. “Andrew Lloyd Webber’s stuff is pretty dark, like _Phantom of the Opera_.”

“Ooh,” John suddenly said at a volume only Rodney and Torren could hear. “I just remembered—Alderaan.”

Rodney grimaced. “Yeah, and Obi-Wan. Bad idea.”

“What’s wrong?” Torren whispered.

John picked him up with a grunt; at the rate the boy was growing, John wouldn’t be able to do that much longer. “Miss Agatha and Miss Violetta are kinda havin’ a hard time right now, buddy,” he whispered back. “So what say we wait on _Star Wars_ for a few weeks and pick something where nobody dies?”

Torren thought a moment before breathing a suggestion into John’s ear.

John grinned. “Yeah, that’ll work. Good choice.”

Torren grinned back, and as soon as John let him down, he ran to pull Agatha and Violetta over to the best seats on the floor, then fetched them cushions and a bowl of popcorn before plopping down between them. All the other adults, and Krosp, quickly found seats while John put the DVD in the player and turned down the lights.

Krosp was asleep in minutes. But when Rodney looked over during “Moses Supposes” to see both Agatha and Violetta rapt in wonder at Gene Kelly and Donald O’Connor’s footwork, he shot Torren a thumbs-up and got a blinding grin in reply. John was right; the kid did have good taste. _Singin’ in the Rain_ was turning out to be the perfect choice.

* * *

_Introduce her to computers._

Agatha gave the laptop a bemused look. “Where do I put the paper?”

Rodney started to scoff but then thought better of it. “Er, here.” He went to a shelf and retrieved an older model that wasn’t working anymore. “Here’s one you can take apart.” He shoved it into her hands and ushered her quickly into another lab.

When he checked on her three hours later, she had not only taken it apart, diagrammed _everything_ in her notebook, and cleaned all the parts but started putting it back together again. When he walked past an hour after that, a cry of “HA! _Genial!_ ” told him she’d actually fixed the dang thing.

“Ah, Lantea?” he whispered. “Be careful about what parts of the database she can access.”

He couldn’t communicate with the city on quite the same level John and Agatha could, but he still felt Lantea’s amused agreement.

* * *

_Introduce her to computer games._

On the eighth day, Agatha discovered _Tetris_ and saw that it was good. And there was much rejoicing.

* * *

_Give her books._

“She’s read them _all?!_ ” John yelped.

The librarian nodded. “The entire library.”

“Including _War and Peace_?”

“In the original Russian, no less. She finished it in two days.”

John rubbed the back of his neck, feeling awkward. After nine years, he still hadn’t made it past Book VI. “Guess we’ll have to find something else to keep Her Sparkiness occupied.”

“Oh, no, forgive me. Lady Heterodyne’s still working through the theoretical physics texts. I meant Lady Mondarev.”

John’s jaw dropped.

The librarian shrugged. “Well, Lady Mondarev isn’t taking notes. Lady Heterodyne is—fairly copious notes, from the sound of it; she’s had to build a dictaclank to stave off permanent writer’s cramp. I did suggest dictation software, but she insisted it needed to be in a form she could take home.”

“Oh, great.” John tapped his radio. “McKay, got any grunts you’re particularly annoyed with?”

 _“What’s she done this time?”_ Rodney radioed back.

“Dictaclank for note-taking. Wanna make sure that’s _all_ it does.”

_“On it.”_

(It was in fact no more than a voice-controlled pen-wielding arm on wheels. It still tried to stab the offending scientist who tried to pick it up. Violetta probably shouldn’t have laughed as hard as she did.)

* * *

_Ask her to babysit._

“And this one’s Uncle Rodney’s favorite,” Torren continued, bringing Agatha a well-worn copy of a _Batman_ illustrated dime novel—er, comic book.

“I see,” Agatha replied. “So if these are comics, what’s a webcomic?”

He sat down beside her on his bed. “Earth’s got this really cool information network called the Internet or the World Wide Web. You have to get on it with a computer.”

“Ah, so a webcomic is a comic that’s put on the World Wide Web?”

“Right.”

She shuffled through the stack of comic books in her lap. “And are any of these people real?”

He sighed and drew his knees up so he could rest his chin on them. “I guess it depends on what you mean by real. Uncle Rodney says there’s all kinds of universes out there, so maybe. And maybe there’s some universe out there where _we’re_ just a story.”

“It’s just hard to fathom someone from a completely different universe knowing so much about my life. I mean, the Heterodyne Boys books are one thing....”

“What are they?”

“Oh, books about the adventures my father and uncle had. They were heroes, too—not superheroes, but they were sparks, like this Batman. Some of the stories are sort of true; some of them are completely made up. Many of them have been turned into plays, like the ones we performed when I was with Master Payne’s circus.”

“Oh, yeah, that sounds like _Wormhole X-Treme!_ and _Wormhole X-Treme Beyond_. They’re TV shows that are sort of based on things that happened here and at the SGC.”

“SGC?”

“Stargate Command. It’s on Earth.”

“Ah.”

“They’re not very good,” he confessed, flopping backward on the bed. “I like _Star Trek_ a whole lot better. But maybe there’s a universe where there’s a TV show that tells what’s really happened here, and maybe there’s a universe where _Star Trek_ is real and just hasn’t happened yet.”

“But how do the writers know? Or the artists, like this Herr Foglio who draws _Girl Genius_? It ought to be scientifically impossible.”

Torren shrugged. “How should I know? I’m five years old.”

Krosp laughed. “He’s got you there, Agatha.”

Agatha threw a pillow at him. “Just for that, I won’t ask the biologists for a spare mouse when I go see the wasp eater after training.”

“Me _ow!_ And I thought I was the cat in this group!”

Torren and Violetta laughed uproariously.


	6. Part 2: Materials and Methods, Chapter 1: A Heterodyne Show

_SIMULATION FAILED_ declared the computer yet again, and Agatha flopped back in her chair with a groan.

“Do not despair!” Todd said. “We are getting closer.”

“You don’t understand,” Agatha replied without sitting up, a month of daily practice among Americans and Canadians having worn down the formality of her English. “Before my locket was stolen, _nothing_ I did worked. My clanks blew up, if they even ran in the first place. And I got terrible headaches when I tried to think intensely or do too much.”

“Ah, but I have watched Dr. McKay struggle with far simpler problems for far longer. And I believe it took him a full twenty-five years to find a way to retrieve Col. Sheppard from the future, although in fairness, that problem was far more complicated.”

She sighed. “I appreciate your saying so. It’s just that... I have to get this one exactly right, or... we lose everything.”

He smiled at her. “You are young, Agatha Heterodyne. But you are a queen. You can do this, and you will, but it may take more time than you had hoped. Yet you may take comfort in the knowledge that the situation cannot worsen in your absence.”

She straightened and looked at him narrowly. “What’s the longest you’ve ever had to spend on a problem?”

He made a non-committal noise. “There were... situations that were not resolved permanently before the Ancients left ten thousand years ago, but most of them did not remain our highest priority until the city was once again occupied.” When she raised an eyebrow, he sighed. “I was captured once by humans. The Genii. They locked me away and starved me except when they needed to torture someone else. Then they tortured me by refusing to allow me to feed for more than a few seconds at a time. I do not know how many of your years they held me, but I was unable to find a way to escape on my own. Only Sheppard could solve that problem for me.”

Before she could figure out how to respond, there was a knock on the frame of the open lab door. She turned to see Maj. Lorne walking in. “I didn’t realize it was so late,” she said.

Maj. Lorne shook his head. “Nah, I’m early. But today’s range session is canceled. Just got a message from the Alpha site—some of the Coalition leaders want to meet with you.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” Violetta murmured in Romanian.

Agatha stood, frowning in confusion. “Is this about the coffee engine I gave the Genii?”

Maj. Lorne laughed. “No, I think they’re just curious about your ability to turn spare parts into trade goods, and lucrative ones at that. Usually we deal in higher-level technologies and medicines from Earth, not the clockwork stuff you build—but your stuff at least looks like the sort of machine anyone ought to be able to build and repair.”

“Well, I hardly want to sell something only a spark could repair, as I plan not to be here very long.”

“And that’s _good_ , trust me. Thing is, there’s been talk about setting up some guild schools, maybe even a college, and I suspect they might want you to teach.”

Agatha’s jaw dropped. “Teach?! I haven’t even finished my degree!”

Maj. Lorne rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, sorry, that’s probably our fault for introducing you as Dr. Agatha Clay. Folks here in Pegasus are just used to our people having some sort of title—in fact, I think Woolsey’s the only civilian from Earth who doesn’t have a PhD or an MD. Of course, in all fairness, you could probably walk into the engineering department of any university on Earth with that coffee engine of yours and walk out an hour later with a PhD.”

Violetta and Todd laughed, and Agatha managed a rueful chuckle.

“All right, you two suit up. We leave in fifteen.”

“I will review the simulation,” Todd promised. “Perhaps there is a variable we have overlooked.”

Agatha nodded. “Thank you.”

On the way back to the girls’ quarters, Agatha reviewed what she’d learned about the Coalition, a confederation of planets that had arisen in the wake of the Wraith’s continuing defeat. It had taken the better part of four years for the various peoples of Pegasus to decide what role the Coalition ought to play and to what extent its policies should be subject to the veto of Atlantis and its uneasy allies the Genii. So far the Coalition’s mission had been limited to promotion of trade and learning, standardization of law codes within reason, extradition of criminals, and assistance with defense against the Wraith. It wasn’t a central government, like the Wulfenbach Empire, and it didn’t support a central leader, like the Shining Coalition had supported the Storm King. It was... well, more like the regents and university councils at Oxford and Cambridge,* from what she’d gleaned through handling Dr. Beetle’s correspondence, though without even the titular figurehead of a chancellor. (TPU, like the rest of Beetleburg, had been governed solely by Dr. Beetle until his death.)

So in that regard, Maj. Lorne’s surmises seemed likely. Still....

Violetta shot Agatha a look as they stepped out of the transporter. “You’ve got a bad feeling about this, too, don’t you, my lady?”

Agatha nodded. “I can’t put my finger on why. Something just doesn’t add up.”

And Krosp, once he got over being rousted out of his sunbeam, agreed. “We’ve been here a month,” he noted, ears back and tail twitching. “Why are these people asking to meet with you _now_?”

“I know,” Agatha returned. “I can’t work it out. But if it _is_ a trap, I don’t think it’s Maj. Lorne’s doing.”

Krosp shook his head. “No, Lorne we can trust. We’ve had some long talks; he’s a good man. And we’ve never even been to the Alpha site, so it’s not likely that any betrayal would come from there. But it’s a big galaxy.”

Violetta transferred a handful of knives into her Atlantis-issued tactical waistcoat. “Assuming it _is_ a trap, then, what precautions should we take?”

As if in answer, their radio earpieces chirped. _“Heterodyne, Mondarev, this is Lorne,”_ came Maj. Lorne’s voice. _“Meet us in the main Jumper bay rather than the Gateroom. I could use a co-pilot.”_

As Violetta and Krosp shared a knowing look, Agatha tapped her radio. “Understood, Maj. Lorne. We’ll see you there.”

The Puddle Jumpers, as the expedition members called them, were cylindrical flying machines about the size of one of Castle Wulfenbach’s small support airships, just the right size and shape to fly through the Stargate. Each one could hold up to twelve humans and was equipped with an invisibility “cloak,” an energy shield, and energy weapons called drones. Dr. Beckett had given both Agatha and Violetta flying lessons after Agatha had studied the Jumper’s schematics, taking them first over the mainland and then... into orbit. The look, the technology, and the true amphibiousness of the Jumper—it could “fly” underwater as well—all combined to make it completely different from the flying machine that Gil had built and that Agatha had helped him improve. That was probably why, although she’d wished he were with her, she was able to enjoy the experience of flying in the Jumper and not choke up for more than a few seconds the first time out.

She was going to solve this problem. She was going to stop the destruction. _She would see him again._

Krosp went with Agatha and Violetta as far as the Gateroom before going on to Agatha’s lab to see whether he could help Todd. Lt. Edison met the girls at Stargate Ops, at the foot of the stairs to the Jumper bay, and briefed them on the planet they were about to visit as they climbed the staircase. It was a pleasant place, he said, neutral ground as far as the Genii were concerned, and only slightly behind Europa in technology.

“To be honest, I’m not really sure why we’re taking the Jumper,” he admitted as they walked into the Jumper bay. “It’s not like the Gate is in space or anything. But Col. Sheppard and Mr. Woolsey thought of it about the same time Maj. Lorne did, and I know better than to second-guess these things anymore.”

“Well, we can hope it’s a precaution we won’t need,” Agatha replied, despite her growing sense that they were going to need it.

Maj. Lorne, Sgt. Rivers, and Cpl. Ramirez were waiting for them in Jumper 3, and after a few preflight checks, they were off. Maj. Lorne cloaked the ship while it was still lowering into the Gateroom and, on their arrival at the other end, had Agatha monitor the scanners while he flew over the settled part of the mainland. No threats were evident, so he landed near the Gate and left Lt. Edison and Cpl. Ramirez with the Jumper while he and Sgt. Rivers accompanied Agatha and Violetta into town. Inquiries at a few shops revealed that the Coalition leaders hadn’t arrived yet, so the four of them went to a pub to wait. The people they spoke to and the people they passed all seemed quite friendly, aside from one dark-haired lady in a broad-brimmed straw hat who looked away rather pointedly as the team walked by her, almost like she didn’t want them to see her face. But Violetta kept her hands near her blow gun, and Maj. Lorne and Sgt. Rivers kept looking around in opposite directions. As they sat down at one of the pub’s outdoor tables, Agatha wished she’d brought something to keep her hands busy.

They’d been at the pub about ten minutes, by her reckoning, when the radio chirped. _“Maj. Lorne!”_ Lt. Edison called. _“We’ve got a Wraith cruiser just dropped out of hyperspace—and it’s sending a Dart toward the surface!”_

“All right, the hell with this,” Maj. Lorne replied. “We’re gettin’ out of here. Hold your position and do not engage. With any luck, we can get back to Atlantis before they know we’re here.”

The group stood as one and started into an alley that would take them back to the road to the Gate more quickly than the route they’d taken on the way in. However, the first shop they’d passed, a greengrocer’s, had just come into view when Agatha heard a noise in the sky that was somewhere between a scream and a whine. The men hurried the girls under the shelter of a nearby awning seconds before the Dart (which was in fact dart-shaped, to Agatha’s surprise) swept past and shot a beam of light onto the main road, leaving behind a group of six Wraith. One was dressed like Todd; the other five were far more muscular and wore masks over their faces, short leather jackets that showed their trousers, and breastplates and a few bits of leg armor. The warriors, if that was what they were, also bore weapons that looked like a cross between a spear and a rifle. Frowning, Maj. Lorne motioned for silence and led the team closer to the road, still keeping out of sight.

The Wraith walked up to the grocer’s shop, and the leader asked, “You see everyone who comes into this village, do you not?”

“Un-unless I’m away from the window,” the grocer replied nervously.

“I am looking for a woman from Atlantis. A Dr. Agatha Clay. She wears this symbol.” The Wraith handed a piece of paper to the grocer, Agatha thought; she couldn’t quite see what was happening.

Curious but also concerned, Agatha started to edge forward. Maj. Lorne caught her by the loop on the top of the back of her waistcoat and pulled her back, shaking his head when she frowned at him.

“I am told she has come here quite recently,” the Wraith continued.

“Yes,” the grocer admitted. “She, uh... she, uh....”

“Where is she?”

“I-I don’t know.”

“Do you not?”

“No, I don’t. Honest. I—”

The Wraith turned slightly, and one of the warriors walked out of sight and came back a moment later dragging another man by the arm.

“No!” cried the grocer.

“Please,” the second man pleaded. “I haven’t seen _anyone_ from Atlantis! I don’t know anything!”

The Wraith looked back at the grocer. “Where is she?”

“I don’t know!” the grocer repeated.

The warrior stepped behind the second man and grabbed his other arm, holding him still. With a hiss, the lead Wraith ripped open the man’s shirt and slammed its right hand against his chest, claws digging into the skin slightly. The man screamed—and to Agatha’s horror, his face began to wrinkle with age, and his hair turned white.

Agatha started to run forward again, but Maj. Lorne clapped a hand over her mouth and wrapped his other arm around her shoulders to pull her back against his chest. “Easy, Sparky,” he hissed in her ear. “You won’t save him by giving yourself away.”

She would have retorted, but by then it was over. There was nothing left of the poor man but a withered husk, as desiccated as prisoner corpses left in the bell jars on the TPU quadrangle too long after their death. The lead Wraith pulled back its hand, and the warrior tossed the body aside like a melon rind.

She thought of Todd, of the odd way he would look at his right hand from time to time, of the lessons he insisted on giving her in how to be a queen as if she were going to be ruling people like... like _that_. She wanted to explode.

“I know,” Maj. Lorne whispered, rubbing her shoulder a little but not letting go. “I know.”

“Now,” said the Wraith as it turned back to the grocer.

The grocer moved; Agatha thought he was raising his hands. “I swear to you by the Ring of the Ancestors—yes, she came by here, and I haven’t seen her leave. But I don’t know where she went from here! I _swear it!_ ”

“Then I give you one hour to find her. Inform her that I require her assistance on a technical matter. If she is not here by the time I return, I will give the order to have this village destroyed. Do you understand?”

“Yes. Yes, I understand.”

The Wraith nodded once, then turned and led the warriors out of town toward the Gate.

Once the sound of their departing boots faded, Maj. Lorne sighed quietly and let go of Agatha. “You all right?” he asked as she turned around.

She wasn’t really, but she nodded stiffly anyway. “What is this technical matter it mentioned?”

“Well, if I had to guess, I’d say it’s a test for a drug that was developed on a planet called Hoff. Michael forced Dr. Beckett to refine it and started distributing it among human populations at random.”

“What does it do?”

“Apart from killing a third of the people who ingest it? Not only does it make the victim immune to Wraith feeding, it poisons the Wraith that tries to feed on that person. They’ve been trying for five years to find a reliable way to detect it, but every time they get close, someone manages to sabotage it or else blow up the ship or the lab. Usually us, sometimes the Genii or a Coalition team. Guess this one figures since you’re new here, you might be easier to intimidate into doing it right.”

Agatha nodded slowly, took a deep breath, let it out again, and started back down the alley toward the pub at a brisk walk, trusting the others to follow. “How much C4 does it take to destroy a cruiser, assuming optimum placement?”

Maj. Lorne fell into step beside her. “About eight blocks in the power relay station.”

“Do we have that much?”

“Yeah, but I’m not lettin’ you go up there.”

“Don’t worry. I wasn’t planning to.” They passed the corner of the pub, and—yes, there _was_ a watchmaker’s shop on the far side of the square. She quickened her pace to just short of a jog.

He kept pace with her. “So what _are_ you planning to do?”

“Give it what it wants: technical help.” She strode into the shop and past the counter without pausing. “Please forgive me,” she said to the startled watchmaker as she made her way to the workbench and started pulling tools out of her waistcoat. “I will pay you later. This is an emergency.” Brass, yes—C4 would not explode without a detonator, but it could still burn, and brass would cause no sparks. And quartz, good, she had learned a good deal about putting information on crystals already. She pulled her tablet computer from the pack she always carried offworld and then started reaching for components. “Violetta, I will need a case.”

“On it, my lady,” Violetta replied and started rummaging.

The men were talking quietly with the watchmaker, but as the first clank swiftly took shape under Agatha’s hands, Maj. Lorne suddenly yelped, “Hey, whoa, Sparky, _stop!_ ”

“These are not made to build, Herr Major,” Agatha replied, slamming the back into place. “These are made to destroy.”

Violetta brought over a box that was just the right size and started fitting blocks of C4, detonators, and a switch into it while Agatha put each completed clank in, wound but with the stems still extended, as a second layer. Maj. Lorne watched over Agatha’s shoulder as Sgt. Rivers continued negotiating payment (she assumed) with the watchmaker. Since Maj. Lorne was a geologist in his own right, she didn’t try to explain what she was doing, trusting that he could keep up well enough on his own.

“What do the ones with propellers do?” he asked as she completed the last of the worker clanks.

“Lift,” Agatha replied and set it in the case. “And these”—she reached for one more quartz crystal and used the tablet to program it quickly—“I have set as tracking devices so that we can monitor the clanks. They will not survive the explosion, I promise.”

Violetta laid a layer of black felt over everything that had gone into the box so far. Agatha nodded her approval.

“Woolsey’s gonna want proof of that,” Maj. Lorne noted.

“We can gather that proof when this is over.” Agatha put the crystal in a slightly larger watchcase and slotted gears and springs into place around it with practiced ease. “A loop of strong wire, Violetta—like a piano string.”

“Right.” Violetta made her selection at once—trust a Smoke Knight to know exactly what Agatha wanted in this case—and had laid the wire in the box by the time Agatha finished her command clank.

As Maj. Lorne watched uneasily, Agatha wound the command clank and pushed in the stem. The clank opened its eye, extended its arms and legs, stood, and saluted her with a _Bing!_

“Do you understand your instructions?” she asked it.

 _Bing!_ It saluted again.

“Work as fast as you can. Cut through the walls if you must.”

_Bip._

She lifted it into the box. “Here is the wire. Stay still until the Wraith comes close enough for you to use it.”

 _Ding._ It lay down in the exact center, retracted its arms and legs, and closed its eye.

“All right. Good luck.” She closed the box and latched it, took a deep breath and blew it out again, and turned to Maj. Lorne. “How much time do we have?”

He checked his watch, but Sgt. Rivers answered, “About fifteen minutes, ma’am.”

She blinked. Was she slowing down?! Well, possibly not; she had had to build each of those clanks separately without assistance, and Maj. Lorne had been watching the whole time, and it had taken several minutes to set up the tablet to program the crystals, so... it didn’t matter. They had fifteen minutes to get back and set up. “Right. Sir,” she said, turning to the watchmaker, “if you’ll allow, I can come back later and build you a surveillance clank that—”

The watchmaker smiled and held up a hand. “Don’t worry about it, Dr. Clay. Your friends have already paid, and I’m pleased to be able to help in the fight against the Wraith.”

“Er, right, okay. Thank you for the use of your shop and materials, and I apologize again for the intrusion.”

Violetta zipped up a pocket on Agatha’s pack. “There. That’s everything.”

Agatha turned back to her. “You got—”

“All your tools and the tablet, yes, my lady.” Violetta picked up the box and handed it to her.

Maj. Lorne sighed. “All right, let’s go.”

As they left the watchmaker’s shop to return to the greengrocer’s, Sgt. Rivers asked, “Sir, are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“This was a setup from the jump,” Maj. Lorne agreed. “Coalition leadership’s got a mole. Question is who and why, what anyone would gain by Agatha’s capture or whether it’s even about Agatha at all.”

“Ten o’clock,” Violetta murmured, using the radial coordinate code they’d learned from Col. Sheppard.

Without turning her head, Agatha glanced to the left and saw the same dark-haired woman with the straw hat. “Odd choice of hat if you don’t want to be seen,” she noted at the same volume.

“Genii used to dress like that, when we first got here,” Sgt. Rivers said. “Wanted people to think they were just farmers.”

“This isn’t about the coffee engine, even if the Genii are involved.” Maj. Lorne stated before Agatha could even sigh. “And I’m not convinced they are. It’s not Ladon’s style, for one thing. But one way or another, I’ve got a feeling we’ll find out once the plan blows up in their face.”

“Right. But with due respect, ma’am, how are you planning to sell this?”

Agatha smiled coldly. “I was an actress for a short time. It’s time this galaxy witnessed its first Heterodyne show.”

Then there was a shout, and the grocer came running out of a side street. “Dr. Clay!” he cried. “Thank the Ancestors—I’ve been looking everywhere! You and your friends, you’ve got to get out of here. The Wraith—”

“We know,” Maj. Lorne interrupted. “We heard. And we’re not letting anyone else get killed over this.”

“We have a plan,” Agatha added. “But it’s going to require that I behave very strangely for a few minutes. You may want to spread the word that I’ll be putting on an act.”

“And warn people to stay inside. If we have to start shooting, we don’t want any bystanders in the line of fire.”

The grocer blew the air out of his cheeks. “Right, understood.” He turned and hurried off, and so did several other people who’d been standing close enough to overhear.

By the time the team reached the greengrocer’s, the streets had mostly cleared. Maj. Lorne indicated a good place to wait out of sight, and when they had hidden themselves, the rest of the team prepared to give covering fire while Agatha prepared for her performance. She breathed a quick prayer of thanks that Todd had taken the time to teach her some of the Wraith language, which was a derivative of Ancient, itself a primitive form of Latin. Given her fluency in Romanian, Latin, and French, picking up both Ancient and Wraith had been a breeze. And Todd’s lessons were also a good way to get into character.

 _No retreat in the face of battle_ , she remembered him reciting. _No sympathy for the fallen. No mercy for our enemies. And above all, you must never show weakness._

She was a queen. She was the Heterodyne. And more: for the moment, though she was not about to touch her locket, she was Lucrezia Mongfish, stage villainess extraordinaire. Much as she hated what her mother had done to her, she’d played the role often enough with the circus that she could slip into character quite easily.

She’d just finished mentally translating her lines when footsteps came crunching up the road. _Showtime._

The grocer had, by this point, finally returned to his shop. As the Wraith approached, he came outside again, wringing his hands.

“Well?” asked the lead Wraith, walking up to him.

“She’s coming,” the grocer replied. “I-I-I don’t know where she is right this moment, but she promised—”

That was her cue. Agatha stepped out of the shadows and, with the full force of Spark command voice, thundered in Wraith, “ ** _Kneel, you MISERABLE MINIONS!_** ”

Windows in a fifteen-meter radius rattled as she yelled, and the warriors knelt as automatically as if... well. As if they were revenants.

Before Agatha could have more than a brief flashback to the performance of _The Heterodyne Boys and the Socket Wench of Prague_ that had started the disasters in Sturmhalten, the lead Wraith turned to her, swiftly hiding its astonishment. “Ah. Dr. Clay, I presume,” he said in the same language. “I had not expected to discover such a scholar among the Lanteans.”

“Fool! You underestimate me _and_ Atlantis at your peril. But I will show you—I will _show you all!_ ” She marched up to it and thrust the box into its hands, briefly noting the slit on its right palm that Todd no longer had. That must be— _no. Stay on script._ “This kit should resolve all of your problems. Now **go** , before I decide to make an example of you!”

“Yes, my queen,” the startled Wraith replied, bowing slightly, and turned to go before it realized what it had said.

But she already had her P-90 ready to fire when the Wraith looked back at her with a frown, and that evidently convinced it not to argue. It glared at the warriors, which stood, and led them a short way down the road. Then she heard the Dart approaching and dashed back to the shelter of the grocer’s awning, getting under cover just before the Dart’s beam swept over the spot where she’d been standing before it picked up the Wraith on the ground.

As the scream of the Dart’s engine diminished with distance, Agatha sagged against the wall and tried to catch her breath, and Violetta came running around the corner. “Don’t scare me like that!” she chided in Romanian.

“Thank you, Zeetha,” Agatha panted. “Thank you, Zeetha.”

Maj. Lorne and Sgt. Rivers came around the corner next and sighed in relief when they saw Agatha. “You all right, Sparky?” Maj. Lorne asked.

Agatha nodded and straightened. “It wasn’t pleasant, playing my mother like that. But it worked.”

He smiled wryly. “Not quite what I meant, but I’ll take it.” Then he tapped his radio. “Edison, this is Lorne. We’re expecting a big boom. Any Darts leave between now and then, head ’em off. Understood?”

 _“Understood, sir,”_ Lt. Edison replied. _“We’ll head into orbit, just to make sure.”_

“Should be seeing nine subspace signals here in a minute. Keep an eye on ’em for us; make sure they don’t leave, either.”

_“Yes, sir.”_

Then Maj. Lorne smiled more warmly at Agatha. “C’mon. Let’s see if we can find someplace in this burg that sells tea.”

“Please, allow me,” said the grocer. “Dr. Clay saved my life; the least I can do is give you a meal.”

“That’s not necessary, really,” Agatha returned. “I’m only sorry to have been the reason it was in danger in the first place.”

But the grocer insisted, as did his wife, and soon the team was seated around their table drinking tea while their hosts bustled about the kitchen.

“’Scuse me, ma’am,” Sgt. Rivers said quietly, “but I’m not sure I quite got the plan. The wire, yeah, that was a garrote....”

“More than that,” Violetta admitted. “That gauge of wire should break the skin and sever the jugular veins, possibly even the trachea and carotid arteries... especially since I sharpened it.” At Sgt. Rivers’ disturbed look, she added, “I’m a Smoke Knight. I learned how to improvise tools for quick assassinations when I was ten.”

Agatha continued, “Once the lead Wraith is dead, the command clank will activate the others. It has a schematic of a standard cruiser in its memory. The clanks will carry the C4 into the power relay station and place the charges and detonators, and then the command clank will activate the detonator switch.”

“How long will that take?” Maj. Lorne asked.

“Depends on where the lab is, I think.”

“And what’s Plan B if they can’t get there?”

 _“Maj. Lorne,”_ Lt. Edison’s voice interrupted on the radio. _“Not sure what kind of big boom you were lookin’ for, sir, but the cruiser just lost hyperdrive and main weapons, and we’ve lost the subspace signals.”_

“That was Plan B,” Agatha explained.

“Ah,” Maj. Lorne said and tapped his radio. “Close enough, Edison. Take it out. Then scan for the subspace signals one last time before you meet us back at the Gate.”

 _“Yes, sir,”_ Lt. Edison replied.

The grocer turned back to the team as they stood. “Surely you’re not leaving already?”

“’Fraid we have to, sir,” Maj. Lorne answered. “Need to tie up a loose end and get back to Atlantis. But we appreciate your hospitality.”

A further round of protestations and excuses was cut short by Lt. Edison’s report that he had successfully destroyed the cruiser with the Jumper’s drones and that there was no sign of Agatha’s clanks having survived. The team finally managed to get away from the grocer and his wife and left the shop just as the explosion became visible from the ground.

Agatha was looking up at the explosion when she heard a shriek of “ _NO!_ ” She turned to see the woman in the straw hat charging toward them, face livid with fury and knife in hand.

“No, no, NO!” the woman screamed. “You will not escape! ATLANTIS MUST PAY!”

Violetta whipped out her blow gun, but before she could blow a dart at the woman, Maj. Lorne opened fire with his rifle. The woman twisted as she fell backward and landed face down, her hat landing intact beside her.

“So it _was_ the Genii,” said Sgt. Rivers.

“No, it wasn’t,” Maj. Lorne replied and walked over to the body. “She wanted us to think it was. But I had a hunch when she wouldn’t look at us—she knew I’d recognize her.” He used his foot to turn the body over so the face was visible.

“Who was she?” Agatha asked.

“Shiana of the Tribes of Santhal. The Replicators destroyed her planet. She’s hated Atlantis ever since.” Maj. Lorne reached into the pocket of Shiana’s apron and pulled out something that looked similar to the pictures Agatha had seen of Wraith technology. “Guess that’s how she tipped off the Wraith that we were here.” He set it on the ground and smashed it with the butt of his rifle.

Agatha’s blood was boiling, but she took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down. “Well. If you will permit an old Mechanicsburg tradition, Herr Major?”

“Depends on what it is.”

“Nothing disrespectful, I assure you.” Agatha picked up the fallen hat. “I only wish to give this to someone.”

Maj. Lorne raised an eyebrow but then shrugged. “All right.”

“Thank you.”

They said nothing more as they went back to the Gate, though Violetta stuck close by Agatha’s side the whole way, and no one tried to prompt Agatha to take the co-pilot’s seat when they entered the Jumper. And then it was only a matter of seconds before they were back in Atlantis and the Jumper’s autopilot was guiding it back to its slot in the bay above the Gateroom.

Krosp and Todd were waiting at the top of the bay stairs, looking pleased. “Agatha!” Krosp called. “We worked it out! Atlantis has some devices that—say, are you all right?”

Agatha nodded and tried to smile, but from the expressions on their faces, she didn’t do a very convincing job.

Herr Woolsey came up the stairs just then. “How’d it go?”

“What has happened?” Todd asked, more concerned.

“It was a setup,” said Maj. Lorne. “Shiana had something going with the Wraith. And when Agatha didn’t fall for it, Shiana tried to kill her the old-fashioned way.”

Todd clenched his fists. “Is this Shiana dead?”

“Oh, yeah. And so are the Wraith.”

“Your lessons saved my life,” Agatha said quietly, looking up at Todd and squaring her shoulders. “Allow me to repay you. I know you have had questions about yourself as you are now. After today, I can answer them. You are not Wraith. You are a Jäger.” She reached up and placed the straw hat on his head, then kissed his shiny cheek and let the others herd her away for debriefing and tea, leaving Todd blinking after her in astonishment.

* * *

* Corgi’s commentary on the state of Great Britain based on the Foglios’ map of Europa doesn’t mention whether Cambridge would have survived whatever cataclysm mostly sank the island, but since it does mention the Isle of Oxfordshire probably extending northeast into Lincolnshire, I’m going to surmise that Cambridge—at least the town, if not the entire county—did narrowly escape destruction. 


	7. Part 2, Chapter 2: Fallout

The next morning, Agatha woke up screaming, causing Krosp to yowl as he nearly jumped out of his fur. That jolted Violetta straight out of bed with a knife in each hand. Agatha gasped for breath and buried her face in her hands in a vain attempt to pull herself together, but she didn’t realize how badly she was shaking until Krosp wormed his way under her left elbow to get her arm across his shoulders.

“Nightmare?” Violetta asked, sitting down on the bed to Agatha’s right.

Agatha nodded jerkily. “Terrible one. Gil and I had gone up in the mountains outside of Mechanicsburg for a picnic, and we were... we were really enjoying ourselves, but then he started acting strange, wrong, like he was when I last saw him, and then... then there were explosions and the town was on fire, and the Geisters found us and the Wraith started feeding on Gil and he turned into the baron, and then he was himself just long enough to tell me to run before he _really_ started to sound like the baron—he kept yelling at me, calling me Lucrezia—and I couldn’t get away, and there were more Geisters and Wraith and they took the locket and....” The words died in her throat and came out as a sob.

Krosp pushed his head against her shoulder and purred soothingly.

“Good thing it was just a dream, huh?” Violetta ventured.

“I can’t take this anymore,” Agatha confessed. “I want to go home and fix everything so I don’t have to keep _worrying_ about it.”

“Newsflash, kid,” said Krosp. “That won’t solve all the nightmares. Even if we get the empire off our backs, we’ll still have your mother’s plans to combat. And there will be plenty of other things to worry over after that.”

“We _can’t stay here_ , Krosp. We don’t belong here. There are too many rules, too many hazards, and... and I can’t _do_ anything because nobody trusts me!”

“Maj. Lorne trusted you yesterday,” Violetta noted.

“Not enough. They still think my little helpers are going to go on a rampage and try to take over the galaxy and kill everyone like... like what happened to Shiana’s people.” Agatha sniffled. “And now we know I can control the Wraith the same way I can control revenants, and that’s not going to make life any easier. Herr Woolsey’s probably going to confine me to the city until we can go home. Not that I like going offworld as much as we do, but at least it’s a way to keep busy. We’ve read all the books in the library; they’ve restricted my access to the city’s database; people panic whenever I build something....” She tried to swipe the tears off her cheeks, only to have fresh tears fall. “It’s like being back at TPU, only worse, because I _know_ what I can do now, but they still won’t let me.”

“You’re still better off than Tweedle. All _he_ gets to do is keep a diary—with a voice recorder he can’t turn into a weapon. I’m hoping he’ll get so sick of hearing himself talk that he’ll take a vow of silence when we get back.”

Agatha managed to smile a little at that.

“Look, there are a lot of good people here, and they care about us.”

“I know that, and I’m grateful, and that does make things better than they were at TPU. There my only friends were Dr. Beetle and Dr. Glassvitch. And I do understand their concerns and their reasons for the rules they’ve set. I just... I want to go _home_.”

Krosp took a deep breath. “Yeah, about that. We didn’t get a chance to tell you yesterday, but the data burst from Earth that came in while you were gone had a ton of useful information for us. The SGC’s found the solar flare we need, in the Milky Way, and the star in question has a planet with a Stargate nearby. According to Zelenka, if we enter the wormhole at exactly the right moment, we should arrive within a few hours of our target time. The catch,” he added quickly before Agatha could say anything else, “is that it won’t be happening until the end of February. And, well, the other catch is that if we can’t dial the Gate precisely enough to thread the wormhole through the rift, we’ll end up under a mile of ice in Antarctica with no hope of rescue.”

Agatha flopped backward, her head landing on her pillow with a despairing _whumpf_.

“I mean, it’s not very _likely_ that we’ll end up in Antarctica, especially if we can get the coordinates for the cathedral portal out of von Blitzengaard and Zelenka can convert them to a Gate address, but... it’s still a risk.”

Violetta frowned at Krosp. “I thought you said you and Todd had solved the problem.”

“Of how to move about the city quickly enough to save both Wulfenbach and Sturmvoraus and stop the baron from triggering the stasis bomb, yes,” Krosp replied. “You’ll have to get all the details from McKay, but there are a couple of devices that you two can use to make it work. One generates a small, personal energy shield.”

“What good is that?”

Agatha frowned, considering. “The Jumper and the city both use the same mechanism to cloak as they do to generate the shield. It should be easy enough to adapt the personal device for the same purpose.”

Krosp nodded. “Exactly. Violetta might not need one because of her training, but you definitely will.”

“What’s the other?”

“A personal teleportation device. McKay reverse-engineered it from a type they found on a Runner a few years back, and he added some refinements that allow a user with the ATA gene greater ability to control the teleportation. Apparently the original could transport someone only within line of sight, but McKay’s will transport you to any point in space you can visualize within a twenty-kilometer radius.”

Agatha sat up again. “So I could theoretically jump directly from the cathedral into one of Gil’s labs on Castle Wulfenbach.”

“If you had to, yes. It would take several minutes for the power source to recharge for another jump, but you’d need at least that long to find where he’s being held anyway.”

Agatha nodded slowly and heterodyned for a moment as she ran through an imagined rescue scenario. “That ought to work. At the very least, that would let me rescue Gil while you and Violetta rescue Tarvek.”

Krosp rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, Violetta can rescue Sturmvoraus. I obviously don’t have the ATA gene, so I can’t use those devices. But that brings me to a part of the problem only you can solve.”

Agatha groaned and scrubbed at her tear-gritty eyes.

“No, I’m serious. It’s a life-or-death matter, and you’re the Heterodyne. Von Blitzengaard, as a prisoner, doesn’t get a vote. I choose to abide by your decision; Violetta....”

“Will do the same,” Violetta interrupted. “Though I’ll give you my opinion first, my lady.”

Agatha sighed. “All right. What’s the problem?”

“By returning before we leave,” Krosp began, “we establish a time loop. But because we’re going back only a matter of hours and not, say, to a time before you were born, the loop can never completely close. We’ll end up with duplicates of the four of us—well, five, counting the wasp eater, though it might not be affected much. Now, von Blitzengaard, I figure, Violetta can use as a target to catch his own knife.”

“Agreed,” the girls chorused.

“The other complicating factor is that in order to seal the rift, we have to detonate a shape charge just inside the event horizon while the portal is active. I can see to that part of the plan. The explosion will probably destroy the portal, although McKay thinks he can give us a generator and a shield emitter like the one in the Gateroom to limit the damage. It’ll probably also kill the abbess, but....”

“Again, no great loss,” Agatha stated. “Why is that a complicating factor?”

“If we seal the rift after the duplicates go through, they—we— _they_ will be trapped wherever the wormhole leads. Violetta would have to change the coordinates on the controls without the abbess noticing, which shouldn’t be difficult. McKay says he can give us coordinates for a safe destination Gate, and although it may be affected by the same solar flare or by the residual effects of our travel, it probably won’t send them forward more than a decade or two.”

“But they would still be trapped in this universe,” said Violetta. “And depending on conditions at their destination, they might never make it back to Earth or find out what went wrong with the wormhole.”

Agatha frowned and chewed on her lip for a moment as she considered that option. “But if we seal the rift before they go through, we’d still have one live Martellus and two versions of me, both recognized by the castle, and one still possessed by my mother. That’s a recipe for disaster in itself.”

“Not only that,” Krosp continued. “When two copies of identical living matter—not clones or twins, but two versions of the same person from different realities—coexist within the same universe for more than forty-eight hours, it causes what’s called entropic cascade failure. The version from another universe begins to have violent seizures and eventually dies. Zelenka wasn’t sure whether that would hold true in our case because we’d be going back to our own reality, but if it does....”

“We’d probably be the ones to die.”

Krosp nodded. “Probably.”

Violetta sighed heavily, then put a hand on Agatha’s shoulder. “Being stranded is never a good option, but....”

“It’s better than death,” Agatha agreed. “Even without the entropic cascade failure, I can think of at least a dozen ways we could all end up dead if we don’t let the doubles go through. And if they never find out what went wrong with the wormhole, I—she—the other me... won’t have to live with knowing what’s happened in our timeline.” She took a deep breath and let it out again. “I could have been much happier here without that knowledge myself.”

Krosp nodded slowly. “That’s what McKay and I both thought you’d say. Of course, Todd figures that means you can’t just free Wulfenbach and bring him back to Mechanicsburg. Von Blitzengaard won’t grab the other you without the distraction of the baron’s approach, but the baron won’t come down with the stasis bomb if he thinks there’s a chance his son is in town.”

“I could—” Agatha caught herself and shuddered. “No. I won’t give the baron any orders except to stop.”

“Do you have any idea what he did to Wul—er—to Gil?” Violetta asked.

Agatha sighed. “No, and neither did Tarvek, apart from it being some form of mind control. I suppose we ought to see whether the _Girl Genius_ comic can give us any more clues and maybe help us narrow down exactly when I need to get there in order to stop it. Depending on the time frame, though, it may be tricky to find the time to bring Gil up to speed before the baron sends him into Mechanicsburg to try to capture me.”

“This may make more sense after we watch _Star Wars_ , but... Torren was telling me about the Jedi mind trick, where you give someone an order like ‘These are not the clanks you’re looking for’ and the person believes it. I think Lucrezia tried to do that to me after I took the locket off for the Si Vales Valeo. Apparently all the Smoke Knights are in thrall to her.”

Agatha shuddered again, then paused. “But it didn’t work on you.”

“No. I think Tarvek knew and did something to keep me safe.”

“He _did_ say he’d left Gil his notes on a formula that makes a person immune to the wasps... do you think he has one to break the wasp’s control, too?”

“Probably.”

“If so, we could use that to treat the baron.”

“But not too soon,” Krosp cautioned.

“No, obviously, it would have to be after we get Gil out, which will have to be after we seal the rift—”

“ _Anyway_ ,” Violetta interrupted, “my point was, if I’m right, Lucrezia tried the Jedi mind trick on me because she thought I was wasped. So you _ought_ to be able to do the same thing to the baron, especially if you have the personal cloaking device. If you stop him before he can do whatever to Gil and order him to think he’s already done it, that should at least buy you a couple of minutes to tell Gil to act mind-controlled.”

“Maybe more than a couple. He’d changed clothes, and he looked pretty put together except... huh. Now that I think about it, he wasn’t wearing a sigil brooch like he normally does when he’s in official mode.”

Krosp looked skeptical. “You think he can pull it off just on a few minutes’ briefing?”

“He’s a good enough actor to fool Zola. He’s good enough to fool _Tarvek_ , apparently. And he’s smart. I should try to take him some sort of script—maybe even the _Girl Genius_ pictures, if Herr Foglio drew that fight—but if there isn’t time for him to read it, I think he’ll be okay without it.”

“You still trust him.”

“As long as he’s himself,” Agatha said quietly. “I mean, he did help us before the baron turned up again, and... well, it can’t be good for the empire for him to have to deal with the time stop, either.” There was more—much more—she could have said, but they knew she was in love with him, and... well, as much as she trusted them with her life, Zeetha was the only one with whom she felt safe confiding about such things. And some of her reasons went too deep for words.

Why didn’t anyone ever ask her why she trusted _Tarvek_? He’d actually double-crossed her in Sturmhalten, sabotaging her message to the baron and shutting down the clanks that were helping her keep her mother suppressed. The worst thing Gil had ever done, at least that she could remember, was to try to take her back to Castle Wulfenbach at his father’s orders. She’d forgiven them both, but _still!_ *

Violetta looked at the clock, then patted Agatha’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s get dressed. We should have just enough time to get tea before you have to meet Col. Sheppard and Herr Dex for your run.”

Agatha sighed. “All right. I just hope I didn’t wake up half the city, screaming like that.”

 _Not to worry_ , replied Lantea. _I sensed anomalous brain activity consistent with nightmares and soundproofed the room temporarily._

Agatha blinked. _Do you do that often?_

There was a pause before Lantea answered, _I believe that may be one secret that is not mine to share. But fear not. I shall guard yours just as carefully._

 _You, I will miss_ , Agatha thought warmly as Violetta stood to let her get up.

* * *

Life more or less settled back into its usual rhythm during the day Friday and over the weekend. People checked on Agatha every now and again, but mostly only when they had other reasons for talking to her, which helped lessen the sense that anyone was making a fuss over what had happened with the Wraith. She didn’t really expect Todd to wear the hat she’d given him; it didn’t fit, for one thing, and looked only slightly less ridiculous on him than some of the hats real Jägers wore, which was the problem with their insisting on wearing only hats taken from vanquished enemies. And he didn’t, but one of the guards confided to her that he’d hung it on the wall in his quarters, which made her smile. (Gen. Khrizhan didn’t wear a hat, either, although Todd reminded Agatha more of Gen. Goomblast’s geniality in everyday conversation.) And while Herr Woolsey did decide that Agatha shouldn’t go offworld for a while, he promised to reevaluate the situation after New Year’s and even gave provisional approval to the list of devices she requested to take back to Mechanicsburg.

She was still somewhat wary when she arrived at the gym Monday morning for her run and Col. Sheppard said, “Agatha! We were just talkin’ about you.” Both he and Herr Dex were smiling, though.

“Oh?” she replied.

“Yeah, looks like most everyone you know here is headed to Earth for the promotion ceremony and staying there for Christmas and New Year’s. You want to come with us? Got plenty of space at my place in Colorado Springs, since Rodney and Jennifer are goin’ to Toronto to spend time with his sister’s family, and since it’s in the mountains, might give you a taste of home.”

Herr Dex nodded. “It’s real nice. Lotta snow. Pretty, but... kind of a pain for travel.”

Col. Sheppard huffed a little in amusement. “’Course, the downside is that we’d have to come back on the _Daedalus_ , which takes forever, but it’d get you out of the city, use up most of your suspension. Woolsey’s already okayed it if you want to.”

“America,” Agatha said, considering the offer. Apart from the Heterodyne Boys, no one from Europa had been to the Americas since the days of the Storm King. It was a different universe, of course, but she might never have an opportunity like this again. “I’ll have to talk it over with Violetta and Krosp, but... I’ll... I’ll certainly think about it. Thank you.”

“Sure. We’re not leavin’ ’til Friday afternoon, so that gives you some time to decide.”

Her spirits lifted further as they ran, and discussing the invitation with Violetta and Krosp over breakfast and with Teyla over bantos helped her move past her mild intimidation and become truly excited about the idea. Dr. Beckett and Dr. Zelenka had already agreed to join Col. Sheppard, Teyla, Torren, Herr Dex, and Sgt. Banks, so it would indeed be a lively party of friends. Violetta would come with Agatha, of course, so the only real uncertainty was whether Krosp could pass for a normal cat well enough to escape scrutiny once the group left the SGC. Krosp found the question mildly offensive but admitted that he wasn’t sure whether being left behind in Atlantis would be more boring than having to behave himself around civilians.

They were still discussing it when Sgt. Banks’ quiet but urgent voice interrupted by radio: _“Lady Heterodyne, you’re needed in Stargate Ops right away.”_

Agatha frowned, puzzled, but replied, “We’ll be right there. Excuse us,” she added to Teyla, who nodded her understanding.

“Why Stargate Ops?” Violetta wondered as she and Krosp hurried with Agatha to the nearest transporter. “Why not the Gateroom or the conference room?”

Agatha shook her head. “I know, and why is it so urgent? Something’s wrong here.”

“There’s a camera mounted above one of the monitors on the back wall of Stargate Ops,” Krosp reported, ears back. “I think that’s where Woolsey and Sheppard talk to people at the SGC during dial-outs when they need to. Given its placement, the viewing angle probably covers most if not all of the Gateroom as well as most of Stargate Ops. We should take the back way into the room, scope out the situation first before you show yourself.”

Nodding, Agatha selected a destination transporter located in a hall that led to a room behind Stargate Ops, one that was still part of the technical hub of operations but would not be visible to the camera. On arrival, they followed the wall toward the doorway into Stargate Ops but stopped out of sight to listen for a moment. It sounded as if both Col. Sheppard and Herr Woolsey were arguing with someone.

“She’s not a _threat!_ ” Col. Sheppard insisted.

“She can command Wraith!” retorted an unfamiliar male voice.

“And saved thousands of lives, maybe millions, by doing so— _including_ Maj. Lorne and his team. Hell, she gave them the chance to take out that cruiser. Is that a crime now?”

“You yourselves have restricted her movements, her research....”

“For her own safety! If she blows something up, _she’s_ gonna be the first one killed, not our people. And she knows that—that’s why she complies voluntarily.”

“I still don’t understand the objection here, James,” Herr Woolsey interrupted. “If the IOA feels that Lady Heterodyne’s presence in Atlantis represents a security risk, the most logical solution is to allow her to return to her own time and her own universe.”

James, whoever he was, scoffed. “With alien technology, including a naquadah generator _and_ a shape charge that could easily be combined into a weapon that she could send back through the Gate and destroy Atlantis, to say nothing of the classified information she’s had access to.” He lisped through his molars, from the sound of it.

“I can’t believe this,” said Col. Sheppard. “You know damn well she’s had plenty of time to destroy the city if she wanted to. If she goes home, she’s not comin’ back, and neither will anyone else from her world.”

“We’ve trusted the Genii with far more, with far less cause,” Herr Woolsey added. “In fact, we’ve trusted the _Wraith_ with far more when we needed the help of Todd’s alliance.”

“The _Wraith_ ,” James returned acidly, “do not build Replicators out of the spare parts on a watchmaker’s workbench.”

Agatha’s lip curled. She had included a diagram of her clanks in her report, for crying out loud; this James person should know they didn’t replicate!

“So what,” asked Col. Sheppard, “you’re gonna force an innocent young woman who’s here through no fault of her own to stay in the wrong universe, in the wrong year, on the wrong planet—or worse, on the wrong _Earth_ —just because of one incident after she’s been here a month?! I did more damage in my first _day!_ ”

“Yes, well, the IOA has never had great confidence in you, either, Colonel,” James sneered.

“And the IOA has not exactly covered itself in glory in handling the _Destiny_ situation,” Herr Woolsey returned evenly. “Not that Homeworld Command hasn’t made its own mistakes, but Gen. O’Neill is not the one ordering us, in essence, to hold a teenaged girl prisoner without a trial for a crime that so far you have failed to define.”

“Don’t jump to conclusions, Richard. Did I _say_ ‘without a trial’?”

Agatha didn’t like where this was going. A glance down at Krosp told her he was thinking the same thing, given the way his fur and whiskers were bristling. So she stepped away from the wall, squared her shoulders, and walked through the doorway.

“Oh, right,” Col. Sheppard said as she entered, his full attention still on the screen she couldn’t yet see. “One of your Star Chamber hearings?”

“I wouldn’t call it that,” James replied.

“Not one of you is nobility. Where the hell are you even gonna get a jury of her peers?”

“Colonel, I assure you the interview will be completely fair—”

“Sure, and I’m Reed Richards!”

“Lady Heterodyne is a head of state, James,” Herr Woolsey stated, raising his voice for the first time. “I will not allow you—”

“Thank you, Herr Woolsey,” Agatha interrupted, having by this time passed in front of the console where a visibly worried Sgt. Banks was working and thus entered the camera’s field of view. “But I believe I can speak for myself.”

Startled, Herr Woolsey and Col. Sheppard both turned to her, and the ferret-faced man on the monitor nervously straightened his tie. Agatha suspected she would have disliked him on sight even if she hadn’t overheard so much.

Herr Woolsey recovered first. “Ah. Lady Heterodyne, may I present Mr. James Coolidge of the International Oversight Advisory. James, Lady Agatha Heterodyne.” He motioned her toward the monitor.

Herr Coolidge cleared his throat and gave her an insincere smile. “Lady Heterodyne, it’s a pleasure to speak with you.”

“Herr Coolidge,” she returned.

“The IOA would like to ask you a few questions about your involvement with the Atlantis expedition and your plans to return to your own universe. If you would, please come through this wormhole to Earth. We’ll explain everything when you arrive.”

“And if I refuse?”

“I’m afraid I must insist.”

Agatha looked the image in the eye. “I have prior commitments upon which the safety of this galaxy depends. I will meet with you _next_ Monday at 8:00, and not a minute sooner.”

“Lady Heterodyne—”

“You have no authority over me, nor can you send anyone from Earth to come and arrest me. I am a sovereign and a guest, and I have committed no crime. Next Monday or not at all.”

That shook Herr Coolidge’s composure. He leaned forward and hissed, “Listen, honey—”

“HEY!” Sgt. Banks yelped, and the transmission ended as the Gate suddenly shut down.

Agatha turned to see Krosp, coat off, jumping down from the console with the air of having just happened to step on the right button by accident. “What?” he asked as he stood up straight again. “Now he can’t order anyone here to arrest Agatha, either.”

“Cat’s got a point,” Col. Sheppard deadpanned.

Herr Woolsey sighed and turned back to Agatha. “How much did you hear?”

“Enough to know that they’ve already made up their minds about me,” Agatha replied. “How much authority do they have over the expedition?”

“They can order me to deny your requests, confine you to the city, possibly even send you to the brig. If I refuse, they can have me replaced.”

“Probably by _that_ guy,” Col. Sheppard added, nodding toward the now-dark monitor.

“Hm,” said Krosp. “So we can’t just ‘steal’ what we need and disappear.”

“Which is why I wasn’t exactly exaggerating about needing to stay for the safety of the galaxy,” Agatha admitted. “In that scenario, I would feel obligated to steal Todd as well, and there’s no telling what the four of us would do out there.”

Col. Sheppard narrowed his eyes. “You don’t _trust_ Todd, do you?”

“Not entirely. On some points, not at all. He reminds me too much of the Jäger generals and even of Castle Heterodyne. But he has been working with me and has a good grasp of the technology, and I know I couldn’t convince Dr. McKay and Dr. Zelenka to come with me.”

Col. Sheppard chuckled. “Good call. So. You said Monday. That mean you’re coming for Christmas?”

Agatha nodded. “I was planning to accept anyway, but... now it looks like I don’t have much choice.”

Herr Woolsey sighed again with a grimace that said he was still seething. “Prince Martellus threatened the personnel of this base within five minutes of his arrival. I have no qualms about keeping him prisoner pending his extradition back to Mechanicsburg. This? This is totally illogical, totally unjust, especially since he asked _you_ to go and apparently meant for you to go alone, without me to be your advocate. You shouldn’t need Lady Mondarev’s protection, but you shouldn’t have to go in unprepared and without counsel, either.”

“Well, I suppose it’s a sign they think I’m dangerous. And to be fair, they’re right. I can be.”

Col. Sheppard put a hand on her shoulder. “Yeah. You are. Krosp is. Violetta is. But so am I. So’s Woolsey. So’s everyone in this city—even _Torren_. Being dangerous doesn’t make you a bad person. And we are not gonna let the IOA railroad you over a situation that nobody could have handled any better.”

Agatha bit her lip in an attempt to stave off the threatening tears. She didn’t know why the unexpected praise hit that particular button, but it did. “Thank you, Herr Oberst. I, um....” She swallowed hard. “I never knew my father except from stories, but if... if even half of what I’ve heard is true... I think you and he would have had a great deal in common. And... I just....” Her voice failed her, and she gave up and hugged him. “Thank you,” she whispered again.

Col. Sheppard hesitated a moment before returning the hug. “We’re not gonna let them hurt you, Ags.”

“I know. I trust you.”

“We’ve got a week. Anything you need to know about the IOA, come ask, any of us. Even Ronon.”

Agatha nodded. “I will.”

“And y’know... I don’t really know anything about your dad, but... I’m honored by the comparison. And I’m pretty sure he’d be proud of you.” Col. Sheppard paused. “I’d be proud if you were my daughter.”

Agatha drew a ragged breath. “Really?”

“H-eck, yeah. Your first encounter with wild Wraith, and you cripple their cruiser? I think that’s a record!”

Agatha giggled and stepped back.

Col. Sheppard smiled at her. “Seriously, though, if you need to talk, I’m not doin’ anything this week more urgent than paperwork.”

“That offer stands for me, too,” Herr Woolsey said. “I worked for the IOA for several years before they assigned me to Atlantis. Even though I suspect they’re not going to accept my request to accompany you to the meeting on Monday, I’ll be glad to do what I can to help you prepare.”

“Thank you both,” Agatha replied. “I’ll take you up on it later. But right now, I think I’d best get to my lab; Todd’s about to start wondering what’s keeping me.”

Both men nodded, and Agatha led Violetta and Krosp back to the transporter.

Violetta looked at her narrowly as the transporter door closed. “What are we _really_ doing, my lady?”

“Going to my lab to talk to Todd,” Agatha replied and pressed the button. “I will want to talk with everyone else, too, but I have an idea that I don’t think they’d help me with.”

Krosp’s ears turned to the side. “You’re planning something for the weekend, aren’t you? That’s why you said Monday and not Friday.”

Agatha neither confirmed nor denied, just led the way to her lab.

Todd was pacing when they arrived but stopped and looked anxiously at Agatha. “I heard you were called to Stargate Ops. What happened?”

“The IOA wants to question me about Thursday.”

Todd snarled quietly. “I have dealt with the IOA myself. They care more about their own power than about the lives of anyone on Atlantis.”

“I thought as much. Col. Sheppard and Herr Woolsey have offered to coach me for the interview before we leave for Earth on Friday, and I’ve accepted.”

“You will need far more than information.”

“I know. That’s why I need your help.” Agatha stepped closer, looked Todd in the eye, and switched to Wraith. “I need you to teach me how to hack.”

Todd smiled and nodded once in understanding. “With pleasure.”

* * *

* Nolettersonthatpleasethankyou—I’m well aware that reader perspectives may vary wildly, but Agatha doesn’t know everything the audience knows (for good and ill) and has different standards, even from mine, of what behavior would be acceptable from a suitor.


	8. Part 2, Chapter 3: What Kind of Madgirl

“Stay between us,” Herr Dex told Agatha Friday afternoon as they headed to the Gateroom, glancing across at Teyla. “We don’t know what’s gonna be waitin’ for us at the other end. Should just be Gen. O’Neill, Gen. Landry, and Col. Carter, maybe the rest of SG-1. But if the IOA pulls anything, we’ll keep you safe.”

“I should hope they won’t,” Agatha replied, looking down at Torren, who was holding her hand. “But it doesn’t hurt to be prepared.”

Torren squeezed her hand but didn’t say anything.

Col. Sheppard and Maj. Lorne were already in the Gateroom in dress uniforms, which Agatha hadn’t seen before but admired. So, too, were Sgt. Banks and the other military personnel who were returning to Earth for the promotion ceremony, and the civilians were all in nice suits. Agatha wished she’d had time to make dresses for Violetta and herself that were nicer than the tea gowns they currently had on (purple and green, respectively), or at least to do more embroidery on them. But Teyla had noted that even Gen. O’Neill’s retirement party was less formal than a high tea, and Dr. Keller had added that most people on Earth would consider 1890s clothing formal by default. Violetta was just thrilled to get to wear a dress and attend a party for a change, and Agatha... was hoping the weapons their cloaks were concealing wouldn’t be necessary.

The tools in her pack were another story altogether.

Once the travelers were all assembled in the Gateroom, they formed a column of fours. Col. Sheppard, Herr Woolsey, Dr. McKay, and Maj. Lorne formed the first row; Herr Dex, Agatha, Torren, and Teyla came next; Violetta and Krosp stood behind them with Sgt. Banks and a Marine Agatha didn’t know; and everyone else fell in further back. Agatha didn’t feel crowded, exactly, but she did wonder whether it was a good idea for her to be this far forward in case of an emergency.

There wasn’t time to worry about it, though. The technician on duty dialed the Gate, and a moment after the vortex settled, the column moved forward into the wormhole. The next instant—or so it seemed—Agatha stepped out into a large grey room with a metal ramp leading down from the Gate; the blue light of the wormhole brightened the space, and the stark featurelessness of the walls was relieved by a window into some sort of control center, but it was much less welcoming than the Gateroom in Atlantis. There were a lot of people about, many of them military, but the tension went out of Col. Sheppard’s shoulders almost at once.

“Sheppard!” called a tall grey-haired, dark-eyed man in an Air Force uniform with three stars for his rank insignia. “Right on time!”

Col. Sheppard and Maj. Lorne both saluted, which the tall man returned.

“Yes, sir,” Col. Sheppard replied. “No sense in being late, all things considered.”

The tall man chuckled, and the people around him smiled. “Now, before you ask,” he said more seriously, “one of my last acts as head of Homeworld Command has been to order all personnel to ensure Lady Heterodyne’s safe conduct.”

“And one of my first will be to confirm that order,” said the man beside him, shorter and blue-eyed but with the same air of authority. He was also in an Air Force uniform but had only two stars as his insignia. “This time I think we can all agree that the IOA has overstepped its bounds.”

Herr Woolsey nodded. “Thank you, Generals.” As they reached the foot of the ramp, the group fanned out a bit to allow the other arrivals to pass behind them and let Agatha step forward at Herr Woolsey’s invitation. “May I present Lady Agatha Heterodyne. Lady Heterodyne, Lt. Gen. Jack O’Neill, retiring head of Homeworld Command”—this was the tall man—“Maj. Gen. Hank Landry, currently head of Stargate Command”—this was the second man—“and Col. Samantha Carter, one of the pioneering members of Stargate Command and former commander of Atlantis.”

The generals simply smiled and shook Agatha’s hand. But Col. Carter, a kind-faced blonde with intelligent blue eyes, smiled more hesitantly and blinked as if in surprise as she shook hands. “Sorry,” she said when Agatha looked at her curiously. “It’s just... I feel like I already know you.”

It was Agatha’s turn to blink. “You’re familiar with my story, then?”

Col. Carter hesitated for a split second. “You could say that.”

“Col. Carter’s been helping us with the research we needed from this end,” Dr. McKay added. “You know, before they started putting her in charge of things, she was one of the SGC’s foremost astrophysicists.”

Agatha’s eyebrows shot up. “Really! Well, then, I hope we get a chance to talk while I’m here.”

Col. Carter’s smile brightened. “I’d like that.”

Agatha turned and motioned Violetta and Krosp forward. “May I also present my friends Krosp, emperor of all cats, and Lady Violetta Mondarev.” Then she had to shut her eyes to stave off tears as a fresh wave of grief swept over her at all the names she couldn’t add— _Zeetha, Daughter of Chump, Royal Princess Guardian of Skifander; Prince Tarvek of Sturmhalten; my cousin Theopholous DuMedd and his wife Sleipnir; Gilgamesh Wulfenbach, heir to the Wulfenbach Empire...._

Someone pressed a handkerchief into her hand, and she opened her eyes to see that it was Violetta. “Are you all right?” Violetta asked quietly.

Agatha drew a deep breath and nodded. “Just... wishing.”

Violetta squeezed her hand again. “Me, too.”

Then Col. Carter started introducing them to everyone else, beginning with Dr. Jackson, whose videos they had watched, and two men from a race called Jaffa, Teal’c and Bra’tac. A number of other alien dignitaries had also come for Gen. O’Neill’s retirement party, and there were more high-ranking members of Stargate Command who wanted to meet Agatha. By the time she’d shaken hands with them all, her group had gone up two stories to a conference room that overlooked the Gateroom, and the Gateroom itself had been filled with chairs and flags for the promotion ceremony.

After that, an airman came to show Agatha, Violetta, and Krosp to their VIP quarters, where they could deposit their packs and cloaks, and give them a portfolio of papers meant to help them during their stay on Earth. And then they were off again, back to the Gateroom, to witness Gen. O’Neill pinning another star on Gen. Landry before transferring command, Gen. Landry replacing Col. Carter’s eagle insignia with a single star, now-Gen. Carter giving Col. Sheppard eagles in place of the silver leaf he had worn, and so on. Several of the people being promoted, including Col. Sheppard and now-Lt. Col. Lorne, received various medals and citations of merit as well, as did a number of civilian members of the SGC. Agatha made careful note of what was awarded to whom and why; she had a feeling she’d want to acknowledge certain types of service, especially Van’s and the Jägers’ but also von Zinzer’s, when she got home.

And then, as the ceremony seemed to be coming to an end, Gen. Carter said, “We have one last award to present, to someone who’s been with the Atlantis expedition only a short time but has already had a significant impact on the lives of those who serve with her. Lady Heterodyne, would you join me?”

Startled and blushing slightly—oh, how she wished she’d had time to make a nicer dress!—Agatha stood and let a grinning Col. Lorne escort her up the ramp to stand beside the podium while Gen. Carter read a short description of her actions that led to the destruction of the Wraith cruiser. Her speech left out the part about the Wraith’s reaction to Agatha’s command voice, for which Agatha was very grateful, but emphasized the risk she had taken in confronting the Wraith in person and her skill in turning the situation to her best advantage, neither of which she had particularly thought about at the time.

“In recognition of her quick thinking and skill in saving not only the lives of her team but also those of the villagers on M2A-739,” Gen. Carter concluded, “as well as untold thousands of Hoffan plague victims whose identities will remain concealed because of the Wraith’s failure to obtain a test for the drug, it is my honor to award Lady Agatha Heterodyne the Air Force Command Civilian Award for Valor.”

Col. Sheppard was the first man on his feet applauding as Col. Lorne carefully pinned the medal on Agatha’s bodice, hugged her, and whispered, “Proud of you, Sparky.” By the time he let her go and she turned back to face the audience, everyone was applauding, and all the Lanteans, the other generals, and several of the SGC’s senior personnel were standing. Agatha suddenly felt like she was back in Zumzum, having her first curtain call with the circus, both delighted and terrified to be getting such a reaction to something she’d done.

(She wondered whether Master Payne had had time to get the circus settled in England before—no. She wasn’t going to think any more such thoughts today. She was going to thwart the IOA and fix everything and go to England to see them on her honeymoon/goodwill tour and _everything was going to be fine_.)

Gen. Carter made some short closing remarks once Col. Lorne had escorted Agatha back to her seat, and then everyone went up to the mess hall for Gen. O’Neill’s retirement party. Somehow Agatha wound up in a corner eating pie and talking with Teal’c, who had fascinating reminiscences to share once she drew him out by asking whether he had ever fought the Wraith. (He had, with Herr Dex, and Herr Coolidge made a none-too-valorous appearance in the story as well.) They were interrupted briefly now and again by people wanting to congratulate Agatha on her medal or give their regards to Teal’c, but all in all they spent a good hour or so in pleasant conversation. She couldn’t help remembering her first tea with the Jäger generals on Castle Wulfenbach; Teal’c wasn’t quite as Jägerish as Todd, but he still reminded her somewhat of Gen. Goomblast.

Eventually, however, Gen. O’Neill and Gen. Carter wandered over to them, arm in arm and beaming. “Hey, there y’are, T!” Gen. O’Neill said. “We’ve paid all our respects, I think, and _been_ paid more respects than I think I know what to do with.”

Gen. Carter giggled.

“So we are going to let the party carry on without us and head to Vegas. You coming?”

Teal’c gave Gen. O’Neill a knowing smile. “Indeed. Undomesticated equines could not prevent me from accompanying you on this mission, O’Neill.”

Gen. Carter laughed like Teal’c had just told a very old joke, and Gen. O’Neill just grinned all the more and shook his head.

Then Gen. Carter turned to Agatha. “Col. Sheppard and his team are coming, too, and we’ll be gone until Sunday night. Would you and your friends care to join us? Would sure beat spending the weekend here.”

Agatha considered. “You know, I think I would. Thank you.”

“Great! Meet us at the elevator in ten.”

And with that, the generals moved on, and Teal’c went to tell Master Bra’tac what was happening. Agatha caught Violetta’s eye—she was comparing notes with Vala Mal Doran, apparently—and nodded to the door, then started toward the table where Krosp was chatting with one Martin Lloyd, the alien who’d created _Wormhole X-Treme!_

As she walked, a young airman fell into step beside her. “Hey,” he said by way of greeting. “So you’re going with the generals, huh?”

“Yes,” Agatha replied. “They were kind enough to invite me.”

“You know why they’re goin’ to Vegas, right?”

“Does it matter?”

“Oh, I dunno. I just kinda thought maybe you might be willing to take a _gamble_ and do the same thing with me.”

She suspected he thought she knew more about this Vegas place than she actually did, but the presumption of the suggestion put her on her guard. “I have no intention of doing anything with anyone whose name I do not know,” she stated, looking away from the fellow.

“Well, let me introduce myself, then,” he said with a _Come hither_ tone and grabbed her arm.

Agatha didn’t even think. She spun, kneed the idiot hard in the groin, and slammed his head face-first against the edge of the nearest table, breaking his nose. “Do not touch me again, _ever_ ,” she growled.

The sudden silence, apart from the idiot’s moaning from where he’d collapsed on the floor, was broken by a pronouncement from halfway across the room: “It was self-defense,” said Col. Sheppard.

Violetta was at Agatha’s side a second later, and Krosp a second after that. “My lady?” Violetta prompted.

“I’m all right,” Agatha replied quietly in Romanian as someone radioed for a medic. “He just went a step past being fresh, that’s all.”

“Are you sure, sir?” someone else asked skeptically.

“Lady Heterodyne’s not in the habit of attacking people at random,” Col. Lorne noted.

“I saw the whole thing,” said Herr Lloyd. “He grabbed her arm—I think he was... er... about to try something stupid.”

“It was self-defense,” Gen. O’Neill said with an air of finality. “Let’s go.”

With that, the party that was going to Vegas, which apparently also included Drs. Keller, Zelenka, and Beckett along with Sgt. Banks and several others from the Earth contingent, headed out of the mess hall. Herr Dex and Sgt. Banks, who insisted that Agatha start calling them Ronon and Amelia, escorted Agatha, Violetta, and Krosp back to the VIP quarters to retrieve their gear, and they reunited with the rest of the group precisely on schedule. Col. Sheppard had located a pet carrier for Krosp, who wasn’t happy about having to be carried but understood the necessity; once he was settled, they were off.

Agatha had, at some point, realized that the SGC was underground. She hadn’t guessed how _far_ underground until the elevator reached the top... and they were only on Level 11. It took a second elevator to reach Level 1. They left the building—which turned out to be under a _mountain!_ —just as the sun set, but she had only a moment to appreciate it before a large horseless carriage (a _van_ , she thought it was called) arrived to take them across town to another Air Force base, where Gen. O’Neill had reserved a jet. Said jet had... well, _some_ similarities to Gil’s flying machine, but the wings were more solid and fixed, and the engines looked different. The passenger area was different, too, being enclosed and nicely furnished, almost like a tea room. Col. Sheppard stopped her from running off to investigate by promising to get her a full set of plans for Christmas.

Honestly, Agatha wished she had the plans then and there, and not just to satisfy her curiosity. Having something to study would have helped her feel less overwhelmed. She’d seen airplanes and cars and present-day Earth cities in the movies she’d watched thus far, of course, but seeing the real thing in person was a very different experience. And it wasn’t quite the same as discovering the advanced technology of Atlantis. This was Earth, _her_ planet, and yet... it was nothing like home.

Before she could fall into an awkward reverie, however, she heard someone ask in Romanian, “Is this seat taken?” She looked up to see Dr. Jackson smiling at her from next to one of the empty seats facing the row she and Violetta were occupying.

“It is now,” she replied in kind, gesturing for him to sit down. “I didn’t know you spoke our language.”

Dr. Jackson chuckled and sat across from Violetta, setting Krosp’s carrier in the other seat. “Perils of being a polyglot, I guess.”

“How many languages do you speak?”

“Oh, I’ve lost count.” His smile turned paternal. “But I figured you could use a taste of home after everything that’s happened this afternoon. You were looking a little overwhelmed.”

“Thank you. And thank you also for the instructional videos; they helped us get settled much faster than we could have otherwise.”

“Oh, you’re very welcome. So tell me about Mechanicsburg! I’ve been reading the _Girl Genius_ comics, but I’m not sure I’ve quite got the feel of the place.”

“Violetta can tell you more than I can,” Agatha confessed. “I was there for only a week before we were kidnapped, and most of that time I spent in Castle Heterodyne. But Violetta worked with Bürgermeister Zuken for... what, three years?”

“Unfortunately,” Violetta grumbled. “But it _was_ safer than working for Tarvek.”

Dr. Jackson started asking specific questions then, and the resulting conversation was so absorbing that Agatha scarcely noticed when the jet took off and when it landed again two hours or so later. Really, the only reason she noticed at all was that Krosp complained about the pressure changes hurting his ears. And then they left the jet and were ushered toward a line of waiting cars—Agatha, Violetta, and Krosp wound up with Dr. Beckett in the one being driven by Dr. Zelenka—and off they went into the city, which Dr. Beckett finally explained was called _Las_ Vegas.

“It’s a very popular tourist destination,” he continued as Dr. Zelenka steered the car expertly through the night. “Most people come here to go gambling, but there are theaters and restaurants as well, and many of the big hotels have other attractions like—well, rather like that circus you said you were with.”

“Yes, but with _much_ more in the way of glamour and special effects,” added Dr. Zelenka. “But I don’t know whether we’ll have a chance to see one.”

“Tomorrow we might, I suppose. May depend on whether there’s one that’s safe to take Torren to.”

“You realize we’re here as much to play uncles as we are for any other reason.”

“O’course. But we are talkin’ about Torren, not the kids from 667. We’ll be fine.”

Agatha suddenly suspected why Torren might need babysitting, but she decided not to ask. She had a more pressing concern, anyway. “We have bank accounts here on Earth, don’t we? I mean, Homeworld Command has been paying us for our work?”

Dr. Beckett shrugged. “Aye, you should have. I should think that information’s in with the other papers they should have given you at the SGC; we can check when we get to the hotel. Why, you fancy a go at the tables?”

“No, actually, I was thinking of the shops. I don’t have gifts for anyone, and... well, there’s some research I’d like to do, and I’d prefer not to have to use my government-issued tablet for it.”

The two men in the front seat exchanged a look that would probably have been longer were it not for traffic. “You realize even a new computer can be traced to the hotel’s network,” Dr. Zelenka noted.

“There are ways around that, aren’t there?” Agatha asked mildly, looking out the window and marveling at how bright the sky was even though the sun had set long before their arrival and the moon hadn’t yet risen. The stars were barely visible.

Dr. Beckett cleared his throat. “Right. You _might_ want to pay cash and wear a coat with a hood. Violetta’s hair, especially, would stand out on a security camera.”

“If it’s in color,” Dr. Zelenka qualified.

“Sounds like a good idea in any case,” Krosp piped up. “It’s _cold_.”

“You could have stayed back in Atlantis,” Violetta noted. “But that does sound like a wise idea, my lady.”

“Agreed,” said Agatha. “So a clothing shop first, I suppose, and then a computer shop. But of course we need to check into the hotel first.”

“And after that,” said Dr. Zelenka, “there is one other thing we must do before we go out again.”

The rest of the drive was fairly quiet, apart from Violetta and Agatha marveling to each other at the city that seemed to go on and on. Then their caravan suddenly turned off the broad road that had taken them southwest, drove around and under and through, and finally turned onto another road—Las Vegas Boulevard South, the sign proclaimed—that made Agatha and Violetta gasp.

“What?” Krosp demanded.

“So many _lights_ ,” Violetta breathed.

“And there must be a thousand people on the side of the road, walking from place to place,” Agatha added.

“Ten times that, more likely, milady,” Dr. Beckett said. “D’ye know where we’re goin’, Radek?”

“They said Bellagio,” Dr. Zelenka replied. “I think we can take Frank Sinatra north from there to get to the Forum Shops at Caesars; that’s probably our best bet to get clothes, if there aren’t shops in the hotel itself.”

“This doesn’t sound like the sort of thing Torren will want to be dragged to,” Krosp observed. “I can watch him while you four do your shopping.”

“Thank you, Krosp!”

The remaining drive to the massive Italianate hotel didn’t take terribly long, and shortly thereafter Agatha found herself standing awed in the bright foyer while Gen. O’Neill went to the front desk to add “one more suite—two adults, one cat; no, they’re both under 21.” Perhaps only because he was a general, it worked. And no sooner were they settled in their room, which had a connecting door to the one occupied by Drs. Beckett and Zelenka, than Agatha and Violetta were hurried off again to the hotel’s wedding chapel.

The reason, it quickly became apparent, was the wedding of Gen. O’Neill and Gen. Carter, who kept her maiden name. The ceremony was fairly simple and brief but lovely nonetheless; Agatha found herself mentally cataloguing a few ideas, though she suspected they’d be out of place in the Red Cathedral. Frau Mal Doran served as matron of honor, and Teal’c and Dr. Jackson split the duties of best man. Agatha understood why those three were there and why Col. Cameron Mitchell, who was another former teammate, and Master Bra’tac, an old friend, had been invited. She understood why Col. Sheppard and his team were there, since Gen. Carter had once been commander of Atlantis. The inclusion of other senior Atlantis personnel like Drs. Beckett, Zelenka, and Keller and Col. Lorne was a bit more of a stretch, but not a huge one. She just didn’t understand why she and Violetta were there.

When the generals had been presented to the assembled witnesses as man and wife and had sealed the marriage with a kiss, however, the officiant called for Herr—er, Ronon and Amelia. Col. Sheppard stood as best man this time and Teyla as matron of honor, though Ronon joked that Dr. Keller should have been included in the wedding party because he would never have fallen for Amelia if Dr. Keller hadn’t chosen Dr. McKay over him. There were a few differences in the ceremony this time, which Agatha assumed were Satedan traditions, but the vows had the same meaning.

Then, to Torren’s great joy, Col. Sheppard and Teyla took their place in front of the officiant. Drs. McKay and Beckett and Col. Lorne stood up as groomsmen, and Amelia, Dr. Keller, and Gen. Carter served as bridesmaids. And when Col. Sheppard dipped Teyla back for one almighty kiss, the cheer that erupted could probably have been heard all the way back in Atlantis.

Agatha resolutely did not cry.

“You hangin’ in there, Sparky?” Col. Lorne asked as the group left the chapel and headed toward the restaurant.

Agatha nodded. “It... wasn’t as hard as I feared.”

“Good, good. Yeah, I realized about the time we hit the Strip that we shoulda warned you. You’ve got, what, two suitors back home?”

“That I care about, yes. Martellus hardly counts.”

Col. Lorne huffed in amusement.

Dinner was a somewhat boisterous affair, thanks to Frau Mal Doran and Col. Mitchell insisting on telling tall tales about the adventures of Gen. O’Neill and Gen. Carter. By the end of it, Torren was about ready for bed, so the girls took him up to their room, and Violetta made up the sofa for him to sleep on while Krosp showed Agatha the “debit cards” he’d found among the papers the girls had gotten at the SGC. Armed with those and the driving licenses for photographic identification, the girls were soon ready to rejoin Drs. Beckett and Zelenka and go shopping. Teal’c and Master Bra’tac, it seemed, were touring the conservatory and Drs. McKay and Keller the art gallery, while almost everyone else went to the circus show at the hotel’s theater, but Col. Sheppard and Teyla had called it an early night.

Agatha was _not_ going to think about wedding nights. She wasn’t. She had other matters to attend to.

Dr. Beckett was a godsend when it came to navigating the clothing stores, of which there were in fact several within the hotel; and since Best Buy was even more overwhelming and closed at 9, Agatha was very grateful to have Dr. Zelenka’s expertise to rely on so that they could get in and out quickly. Violetta did wonders in keeping Agatha more or less invisible to the security cameras, too. By the time they got back to the hotel, therefore, Agatha had almost everything she needed to make her plan work. Krosp and Torren were sound asleep in the living room when the girls returned to their suite, however, so Agatha made sure to close the bedroom door before unpacking her purchases.

“You’re not starting on that _now_ , are you?” Violetta whispered as Agatha booted up the small netbook she’d purchased.

“Do you think it would wake Torren for me to hum?” Agatha whispered back.

“I’m not sure. The room’s hardly soundproof, but the door’s solid.”

“Right, well, I’ll just try to keep it down, then. But I don’t know how long this is going to take, and I have to be finished before we go back to the SGC. Say, do you think this place has a basement?”

“Probably. Why?”

“I had a look at one of the gaming areas as we passed it on the way to the shops.” Agatha entered the network password to gain Internet access. “They have these clanks with levers on them.”

“Yeah, slot machines. I’ve seen some like them in Paris.”

“If they keep their old ones in the basement....”

“What?! No, no, no way, my lady.”

“I won’t build anything _dangerous_. Just a telluric wave conductor—or at least something that will pass for one. I’m sure I won’t have time to test it, but Gen. Carter’s probably the only one who can tell if it works or not. The main thing is to have built it.”

“What for?!”

Agatha finished connecting to the proxy server and looked up to meet Violetta’s eyes. “Leverage.”

Violetta looked at her steadily for a moment, then nodded. “All right. You, um... you want some coffee?”

Agatha considered. “Not ’til morning. I really should let Torren sleep.”

“Thank goodness. I just hope _I_ can sleep.”

“I’m not going anywhere, and if anybody breaks in, I’ve got my death ray right here.”

“That’s assuming they don’t _stun_ you first,” Violetta groused but closed the curtains and started changing for bed.

Agatha ignored her and got to work. Todd’s tricks got her where she needed to go within six hours, which gave her a bit of time to sleep before everyone else woke up and wanted breakfast. She did make a point of going down with the rest of the group (aside from Krosp) and being sociable; but she put the coffee on to brew before leaving the suite and begged off going sightseeing, which sufficiently alarmed Drs. Beckett and Zelenka that they came back with her to ensure that nothing exploded.

Nothing did. But Agatha somehow managed to use the netbook and the tablet at the same time without having her hands on both, which led Dr. Beckett to conclude that the Spark must be the result of a permanent state of near-ascension. Evidently something had happened to Dr. McKay to push him to the brink of ascension to another plane of existence, and one of the signs was his developing telekinesis. That explanation had to wait until Agatha slowed down enough to eat lunch, however, and by suppertime she wasn’t even hungry anymore.

Torren stayed with his parents that night. That was probably wise.

In the end, though, the tactic paid off. Agatha got the last of the coding finished around 2, by which time Drs. Beckett and Zelenka had gone to bed and Krosp and Violetta had located a storeroom in a sub-basement that did have a few disused slot machines in it. The casino and some of the shops stayed open all night, but fortunately, Violetta had worked out how to bypass the elevator’s limits, meaning that she could sneak Agatha into the storeroom without difficulty. One last cup of coffee saw Agatha through the process of modifying a slot machine for her purpose and connecting the netbook to it, which took an anxious hour. And then... well, then Agatha finally got some sleep and barely managed to rouse when it was time to check out of the hotel.

Agatha felt much better rested by Monday morning and strode into the meeting room with Violetta behind her at precisely 8:00. She had the key to her plan in her pocket, her new medal gleaming on her chest, and enough confidence to greet Herr Coolidge politely.

He did not return the favor. “Lady Heterodyne,” he said curtly and gave her a dead-fish handshake. “I hope you don’t think that medal gives you a license to go around attacking SGC personnel.”

“I trust you will excuse the reflexes of a kidnapping victim who does not wish to suffer a repeat performance,” Agatha returned evenly. “I have no intention of attacking anyone unless and until I am myself assaulted.”

“Ah. Er. Well. Uh....”

An Oriental lady cleared her throat and stood up from the table. “Shen Xiaoyi,” she said, offering Agatha her hand. “I represent the People’s Republic of China.”

“Frau Shen,” Agatha acknowledged, shaking hands.

Frau Shen raised an eyebrow. “You know the custom of Chinese names, then.”

“Yes. Dr. Sun at the Great Hospital of Mechanicsburg is Chinese, and I went to school with one of his granddaughters briefly.”

Frau Shen’s other eyebrow rose, and she looked faintly pleased. “I see.” She then took charge of introducing Agatha to the rest of the IOA delegates who were present, most of whom looked either bored or disdainful.

That was okay. Agatha could work with that.

Herr Coolidge tried once more to start the meeting off on a bad note. “I don’t remember Lady Mondarev being invited to these proceedings,” he stated as Violetta closed the door and took her station behind Agatha’s chair.

“Lady Mondarev is sworn to my service at the order of her liege lord, Prince Tarvek of Sturmhalten,” Agatha replied. “Where I go, she goes. Only he has the authority to dismiss her, and obviously, he isn’t here.” This wasn’t true in the strictest sense; Agatha could send Violetta out of the room on an errand. But she usually did so only when she thought there was little to no chance of anything happening in the meantime that Violetta would be able to prevent if present. This room was hostile territory; there was no way Agatha was sending Violetta away for even a millisecond.

“ _Some_ people would consider her presence a threat,” Herr Coolidge pressed.

“ _Some_ people would wonder whether you have something to hide if you are so anxious that I appear here totally alone. I have already come without counsel, as Herr Woolsey was expressly forbidden from attending this meeting with me.”

Herr Coolidge squirmed, and Agatha suddenly realized that the thing that was standing in front of her seat was a microphone. Oh, good, the meeting was being recorded. Excellent.

“Let us come at once to the point,” she continued. “Because of the incident with the Wraith, you consider me a security risk. You do not want me to return to my own universe. You do not want me to leave Atlantis and continue trading offworld. You do not, I take it, wish me to remain in Atlantis, where I have continued access to alien technology and classified information. If that is so, neither do you wish me to remain at the SGC for the same reason. And you do not want me to live on Earth outside the SGC, as I presume I would be just as much of a security risk here. Yet you cannot wish to kill me and do not have the authority to order my execution even if you so desired. So what, pray tell, _do_ you intend to do with me?”

The delegates looked at each other uncomfortably.

Then one, a Herr Strom, coughed and leaned forward. “There’s actually a research project here in the Milky Way that needs your help. A group of our people is stranded on the far side of the universe aboard the Ancient ship _Destiny_ , and we have been trying for the last four years to find a reliable way to get supplies to them, maybe even to get them home. We’d like to assign you to an offworld base dedicated to this particular project. The... alternative,” he continued when Agatha raised a skeptical eyebrow, “would be for you to join our research team at Area 51.”

“How many people are on this ship?” Agatha asked.

“Er, s-seventy-five, we... think. Look, the ship has been out of contact with Earth for three years for reasons beyond our control. We expect contact to be renewed any day.”

“But until that happens, you have no way of knowing whether anyone has survived.”

“We assume—”

“But you don’t _know_. So you are asking me to abandon _my_ people for what could be a fool’s errand.”

“The safety of our people has to come first. I’m sure you can understand that. And even if Dr. Zelenka’s correct that this interdimensional rift you came through is near the surface of Earth, there’s no evidence that it’s posing any sort of threat that makes closing it nearly as urgent.”

“Perhaps the threat you fear is already on this side of the rift,” Agatha suggested quietly. “Or perhaps you simply don’t know your own vulnerability. You remind me of a girl I once knew, Princess Zulenna Luzhakna of Holfung-Borzoi. She was a good fencer, but anyone who didn’t play by the rules could get past her guard easily.” Agatha looked down at her hands, not having to fake her regret. “Too easily, it turned out. Gil told me she was killed helping me escape. She was too proud to watch for treachery.”

Herr Strom frowned. “What do you mean?”

“The Internet.” Agatha leaned back in her chair. “I did some exploring this weekend, and I found a security weakness that anybody with the proper skill set could exploit to take control of _every_ device that connects to the public network, no matter how simple, wireless or wired. The government’s computers have this same weakness, though they do not connect to the public network. Still, it would be no great feat to overcome the air gap; one need only construct a simple telluric wave conductor close enough to a military installation.”

“A what?” asked a French delegate.

Agatha ignored him. “Again, anyone with the proper skill set can build a telluric wave conductor. I learned the steps my first year at TPU.”

The delegates exchanged another very uneasy look.

“Yes, I have created a program to take advantage of that security weakness. It requires very specific voice commands to activate. I have also prepared a full report explaining what the flaw is, how to repair it, and how to deactivate my program and the wave conductor without damage to any other systems.” Agatha pulled a flash drive out of her pocket. “I am willing to give this report to Herr Woolsey on the day my friends and I are allowed to return to our own universe with all that we require to seal the rift and change the timeline.” She put the drive back in her pocket. “However, for every fifteen minutes you continue to keep me here against my will, I shall activate one level of the exploit. Within two hours, every computer and every computerized device on this planet will be under my control and mine alone. And _then_ , if you continue to refuse my request, I have ordered Lady Mondarev to remove my locket and tell my mother _everything_. And believe me, ladies and gentlemen, you do not want me to hand control of this world to The Other.”

Several of the delegates broke out in a cold sweat. “H-ho-ho-how...” one stammered.

“A good madgirl never reveals her secrets,” Agatha replied with a humorless smile, paraphrasing Master Payne. “An evil madgirl never leaves any witnesses. So tell me: what kind of madgirl do you want me to be?”

There was a tense silence before Herr Coolidge spat, “She’s bluffing! Look at her—she’s not even an adult! She’s not even from this _year!_ How can she possibly—”

“ **Venthraxus!** ” Agatha ordered, and all but the emergency lights went out. When the chorus of gasps subsided, she continued, “At the moment, my control extends no further than this room. You have fifteen minutes to decide whether you wish to risk the entirety of Cheyenne Mountain.”

“We don’t negotiate with terrorists,” Herr Coolidge sneered.

“She would not have felt the need to take such steps if we had not backed her into this corner,” Frau Shen retorted. “And she has a point. We have no way of knowing whether _Destiny_ survived the crossing between galaxies. We do not have the right to exploit her for our own gain, especially given the reason she is here in the first place. I must agree with Richard’s assessment; if we truly believe Lady Heterodyne is a threat, the best solution is to send her back where she came from.”

“Col. Telford says—”

“Col. Telford’s plans nearly cost us the alliance with Langara and _did_ cost us the opportunity to use their Stargate to dial _Destiny_. And that is not the only failure in judgment he has displayed regarding _Destiny_ , even if we ignore his falling under alien influence and becoming a spy for the Lucian Alliance. He is fortunate to retain his rank.”

Behind her, Agatha heard Violetta check her pocket watch.

The French delegate ran a hand over his face. “Think, Carl. She is not just threatening personal computers. Think how many medical devices are run by computer, how many security cameras, child monitors—even cars, potentially. This flaw could put millions of lives at risk. And if we let her go, she will not just hold off her attack; she will tell us how to _fix_ things so no one else can attempt the same attack.”

“Bit surprised no one’s attempted it before, if it’s so simple,” said one of the British delegates.

“Simple is a relative term,” Violetta noted. “My lady is a spark. I doubt anyone else could have accomplished it as quickly.” She left out the coffee, for which Agatha was grateful.

“Even so, if word gets out....”

“By the time word gets out, it will be too late,” Agatha said and chose not to elaborate further.

Herr Strom sighed, stood, and paced for a moment, then turned back to Agatha shaking his head. “All right, all right. It was a foolish idea to try to strong-arm you, Lady Heterodyne. I apologize. We’ll approve your requisitions and allow you to return to your own world.”

“Thank you, Herr Strom,” Agatha replied. “Apology accepted. **Otilia!** ”

The lights came back on, and the delegates all sighed in relief—well, all except Herr Coolidge, who looked sour.

Herr Strom nodded once. “And your report?”

“My report, as promised, I will give to Herr Woolsey the day I leave Atlantis.” Agatha stood. “And now, if you’ll excuse me, I believe Col. Sheppard expects me for brunch. Merry Christmas.” And before anyone could say anything else, she led Violetta out of the room.

Once they were out of earshot, Violetta murmured, “Wasn’t ‘Otilia’ the command that turned the exploit into a firewall so _no one_ can take advantage of the flaw?”

Agatha smiled. “They don’t need to know that. Yet.”

Violetta chuckled.


	9. Interlude: Uncertainty Principle

Staying on Earth for two weeks for the holidays turned out to be a better idea than Agatha had realized before the first clash with the IOA. The Sheppards’ house was full of light and laughter, not to mention the traditions and trappings of Christmastide, and when Gen. Carter invited Agatha over for lunch one afternoon, they wound up chatting long into the night. Violetta and Krosp agreed that they’d all needed the respite more than they’d thought. All the same, by the day after New Year’s, Agatha was ready to get back to Atlantis and finish the last stages of her plan.

Yes, she could say she’d been to America, and she had absorbed as much of the history and culture as she reasonably could in the time available. But everything was... strange, off, and not just because she was in America in the 21st century. The differences weren’t the comfortable sort, like Atlantis, which was _supposed_ to be alien but in some ways didn’t look all that strange to Europan eyes. And she missed her friends. She wanted to go home.

The _Daedalus_ was interesting for about a day. The books on hyperdrive mechanics and interstellar flight, which included Col. Sheppard’s dissertation, kept Agatha occupied for another few days; they might not have lasted her quite as long if she hadn’t kept getting distracted by jotting down her own ideas, but of course they would have lasted longer if she’d been allowed to do more than sketch those ideas. Getting to know the crew of the starship was fun for a few days more, especially the night sweet-faced Dr. Lindsey Novak prompted Agatha and Violetta to swap several hours’ worth of stories about their horrible ancestors, which Krosp reported afterward had the intended effect of thoroughly discouraging anyone who’d gotten _ideas_ about Agatha (as if the idiot airman with the broken nose hadn’t been discouraging enough). Had the flight back to Atlantis been only a week long, Agatha wouldn’t have had time to get bored.

Unfortunately, the journey was actually three weeks long. Fortunately, Gen. Carter had loaned Agatha a tablet loaded with hundreds of books for pleasure reading, including all published volumes to date of _Girl Genius_. Violetta was curious about them, and Agatha tended to spend too much time reading in their cabin during the day anyway. So while Krosp wandered the ship after supper to pick up snacks and gossip, Agatha and Violetta would take the tablet to an observation deck to read through the comic and discuss it together, usually covering a volume a night. The comic didn’t yield much in the way of intelligence about Lucrezia’s plans, though Agatha did gain a better appreciation of Gil’s side of the story. (The revelation that her mother had in fact had an affair with Baron Wulfenbach before marrying Bill Heterodyne was... slightly disturbing.) But it was instructive, in a way, to take the time to review everything that had happened since that fateful morning in Beetleburg, to realize just how much she’d changed.

Then they reached the point in Volume 8 where Tarvek and Violetta had turned up in Castle Heterodyne, and Violetta left to get snacks, since she already knew what happened from that point. Left to her own devices, Agatha picked up her pace of reading until the beginning of the Si Vales Valeo discussion in Volume 9... and found herself sitting on the floor in front of the bench, hugging her knees and staring out at the purple streaks of passing hyperspace, trying to get a handle on everything she felt for Gil and Tarvek.

She’d had... a certain conversation with Lilith, of course. She wasn’t as badly uninformed of the facts of life as had been the poor wife of a minor Tyrolean spark who made Dr. Mittelmind, with his orphans and hedge mazes, look like a kindly old crank. From what the papers had said, Count Gyrlani had married the girl and then tried to use psychological games to turn her into a living Muse, leaving her with only the Bible to explain her sudden, and cruelly unrequited, desire for children. When she killed herself, the baron charged the count with murder.* But knowing the scientific facts didn’t help Agatha much when it came to dealing with the emotions, understanding what she really felt and for whom and why. So she hadn’t been trying, quite frankly, not while she simply needed motivation to find a way back to save everyone. Now that the IOA was dealt with, her plan was very close to becoming reality, and with nothing better to do for the moment, she had no reason not to think through what would come next if she succeeded.

She was going to have to choose.

Most of Mechanicsburg would say she didn’t need to, apparently. She hadn’t been totally oblivious to the betting going on behind her after Tarvek had kissed her, with Van giving five-to-one odds on her keeping both Gil and Tarvek; and when it came to the ways of her ancestors, the fact that Castle Heterodyne had a seraglio spoke for itself. But Agatha _wasn’t_ like her ancestors, at least not... not _that_ way. She was her father’s daughter; she had his reputation to uphold, and Uncle Barry’s, against that of the rest of the family. And she couldn’t think of a stronger statement of her intent to remain true to the Heterodyne Boys’ legacy than to marry one man and remain faithful to him. If he in turn freely chose to remain faithful to her... well, that spoke well of both of them, didn’t it? And there was power, if one wanted to see it, in a wife knowing she could so satisfy her husband that he had no desire to seek another woman’s company.

Yes, she was going to have to choose. And she was going to have to break the heart of someone who loved her. Someone she loved. Someone who had saved her life and whose life she had saved.

She didn’t know how to decide.

The thing was, she _did_ love Tarvek, in spite of everything that had happened in Sturmhalten. Yes, he was a sneak, but he was a good strategist and knew a lot more than she did about what her mother and the Knights of Jove had been up to. Yes, he had a bit of a gut, but the rest of him was—well—quite nice to look at, and he was a good kisser and a great fighter. And he had saved her life, helped her save her castle and her town, and generally been a good friend. He was a better man than he sometimes pretended to be.

Yet she wasn’t sure she wanted to marry him.

Agatha sighed as she picked up the tablet again and jumped forward to the beginning of Volume 10, then paged through the depiction of the Si Vales Valeo, with Tarvek looking very impressive fighting what they thought at the time was Otilia. She’d missed out on that somehow... well, of course she knew _how_ , since Violetta had taken the locket off Agatha both to get the last piece of metal off Agatha’s body and to make Lucrezia be the one to feel the pain. The procedure hadn’t burned Lucrezia out of Agatha’s mind as readily as it had burned the Hogfarb’s Resplendent Immolation out of her body, alas.

... but... that wasn’t the only reason _why_ she’d missed that fight. And since this Herr Foglio had to show what was going on around her, he hadn’t drawn what she’d seen.

_It had taken both Gil and Agatha to get Tarvek through the process—Gil to keep the disease at bay long enough for the whole group to get the equipment repaired and the power restored, Agatha to bring him back from the brink of death, and Gil to bring him fully back to life. Even locked away behind Lucrezia, Agatha had sensed the flow of energy among them, taken quiet satisfaction in teaming up with Gil, felt Tarvek’s roar of triumph as he lurched off the slab. But her body was weakening, so she prepared herself for the third switch, the one that would shunt her out of her body temporarily while the process stopped her heart long enough to kill the chroma igniters._

_Once the switch was thrown, there was a brief moment of euphoria as she slipped free of her mortal form, of her mother’s presence. But then she suddenly felt herself sliding sideways (how?) and accidentally bumping into Gil._

_He was startled, and so was she. They pulled back from each other a little, just enough that she could perceive—how she could see without sight, she didn’t know—perceive the contours of his soul, the brightness and the dark streak, the sharpness and the scars, the earnest eagerness and the noble courage. Somehow she knew he could see her the same way._

_And then, though his body was nearly failing, she heard him whisper,_ I’ve got you _, as he enveloped her in his pure, strong, shining love, anchoring her amid the chaos reigning all around them. She embraced him back. They simply held each other._

_It was an instant. It was eternity._

It wasn’t enough.

She wasn’t sure it had been real, honestly. It shouldn’t have been possible with the Si Vales Valeo circuit disengaged, though she now saw von Zinzer—thoroughly reformed and serving as her chief minion, much to his dismay—had clamped another device over her mouth to shut Lucrezia up. Maybe that had opened a secondary circuit between Agatha and Gil. But even if she had imagined it... she didn’t know if she could send Gil away and marry Tarvek instead. She had noticed weak residual bonds among the three of them, though she had no way of knowing whether they’d been forged by the primary Si Vales Valeo circuit or by the secondary process in which she’d saved all their lives by distributing energy gained from the waters of the Dyne among them. Maybe that had something to do with the chimeric cells Dr. Beckett had found in her heart, where they were likely to remain the rest of her life. But the bond she’d felt with Tarvek was far weaker than what she’d felt with Gil. If something happened that Gil were killed, of course, that would be one thing, but even then, Tarvek wouldn’t be the same as Gil.

In one of the many physics texts she’d devoured during her stay in Atlantis, she had encountered the Heisenberg uncertainty principle, which relied in part on the fact that observing the exact location of an electron by striking it with another electron would irrevocably change both particles. If that were true of mere electrons, how much more so would it be of souls? There hadn’t been anything _untoward_ about that moment, for all its intense intimacy, but she could never have that again with anyone else.

Yet there were politics to consider, and she didn’t want to hurt Tarvek’s feelings because she really did care for him....

“Mind if I join you?” Teyla’s quiet, gentle voice interrupted Agatha’s train of thought.

Agatha drew a deep breath, straightened, and locked the tablet. “No, not at all. Please,” she added, indicating the free end of the bench.

Teyla sat down. “What’s the trouble?”

Agatha sighed. “Boys.”

“Ah.” Teyla smiled knowingly.

“Teyla... may I ask you something personal?”

“Sure. Go ahead.”

“I hope you don’t think it’s impertinent, but... well, you see, my parents—Adam and Lilith, the couple who raised me—were quite literally made for each other. I don’t think my father and uncle designed them to fall in love the way they did, or forced matters in any way, but since Adam and Lilith are constructs, they probably didn’t have many other options to choose from. So there were some subjects Lilith and I never discussed.”

Teyla raised her chin in understanding. “Your question concerns John and me?”

Agatha nodded. “How did you know that... that he was the one?”

Teyla’s smile turned rueful. “I didn’t for a long time. We cared for each other from the moment we met, but for several years, neither of us was sure of how we felt or how the other felt. And I was on John’s team, under his command, and the expedition has strict rules about fraternization. Plus, John was also attracted to our first commander, Dr. Elizabeth Weir, and fraternization was an equal bar to that relationship. So... he dated other women, and I dated other men. But none of those relationships ever amounted to anything.”

Agatha frowned. “Not even with Torren’s father?”

“No. Kanaan and I were old friends, you understand, but—well, I still can’t quite explain why we fell for each other so suddenly. Still, after he’d been kidnapped, turned into a hybrid between Wraith and human, and restored to himself, moving back to Atlantis was more of a strain than he could take. He started spending most of his time on New Athos with our people. He was on Atlantis when we flew the city to the Milky Way to save Earth, but when we had to return to the Pegasus Galaxy... well, to cut a long story short, he was killed in battle.”

“I’m sorry.”

Teyla shook her head. “Don’t be. Torren was too young to remember his father, and I had been close to dissolving our joining anyway.”

“And Dr. Weir?”

“She sacrificed herself to save the city—twice.” Teyla sighed. “She was a good friend. All who knew her still miss her.” She took a deep breath. “But to return to your question: there was always _something_ between John and me that I could never quite define. We were friends and teammates, certainly, but so were Rodney and Ronon, yet Ronon was always more like a brother to me, and Rodney... is Rodney. He’s very dear to me—he delivered Torren!—but... well, you know him.”

Agatha chuckled. “And did you ever fear losing Col. Sheppard?”

“Yes. Many times. In one case, John was infected with a virus that started turning him into a... creature not unlike the Wraith. In fact, one of the early symptoms was that he kissed me for the first time. And it was not a gentle kiss, either.”

“Oh. Oh, dear.”

“He did apologize when he recovered.”

“I should hope so!”

“I didn’t know what to make of it at the time, but... the thing that he became haunted my nightmares for years. I think one reason was the fear of losing him the same way again—watching him become a monster.”

Agatha nodded slowly. “Have you felt that same fear about others?”

Teyla considered. “Not to the same degree. Our work is often dangerous, and I do worry when my friends are in harm’s way, but I can’t say I had nightmares about Kanaan reverting to being a hybrid. I’ve had many more about leaving Torren without a mother.”

“I see.”

“Anyway, after Kanaan’s death, John and I finally sat down and talked honestly about how we felt for one another. We couldn’t make anything official until now, of course, but I think all our friends knew, and Torren’s always been close to John.”

As Agatha nodded again, footsteps down the corridor announced the approach of Col. Sheppard. “My ears were burning,” he teased as he entered the room.

Teyla smiled up at him. “Everything all right?”

“Yeah, TJ just wants a goodnight kiss from Mom.”

“You could have radioed,” she noted as she stood.

He made a face. “Kid doesn’t want that broadcast all over the ship.”

Teyla laughed. “All right.” She kissed his cheek, then turned back to Agatha. “I hope what we talked about helped.”

“I think it did, thank you,” Agatha replied truthfully. She wasn’t quite sure how much it helped, but it was better than any advice she could have gotten in Mechanicsburg.

Teyla nodded. “You’re very welcome. Feel free to come talk to me anytime.”

“I might do that.”

“All right. Good night.” She kissed Col. Sheppard’s cheek again and left.

He watched her go with a smile, then cleared his throat and turned to Agatha. “I, uh... couldn’t help overhearing some of what you two were talkin’ about. And... well, I don’t know if this is something where you might want a guy’s perspective, but....”

“It might not hurt,” she admitted, blushing a little. “I understand you were somewhat in a similar position, unsure whether to choose Teyla or Dr. Weir.”

He nodded and sat down where Teyla had been. “Thing is, I was married once before. It was a relationship my dad set up; she’s a lawyer, was gonna go into politics. I went through with it to please my old man, but it really didn’t work out, especially since I was in Special Ops and she resented all the things I couldn’t tell her.”

She thought of the baron, planning a political marriage for Gil, and her heart ached.

“Teyla... I dunno. I think I always knew she was something special—and not just because she was the first alien woman I’d met.”

Agatha laughed at that.

“Now, you’re right, I did care about Elizabeth. I don’t know how things woulda gone if she’d lived.” He leaned forward to put his elbows on his knees and ran his hands over his face. “But the thing I think really cinched it for me about Teyla was... well, lemme back up. You heard about the time I got sent 48,000 years into the future.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Did we tell you why? Apart from the solar flare.”

She frowned. “Teyla had been kidnapped, I think? And you were looking for her.”

He nodded. “Right. Well, in the future, Rodney had left me a data crystal with the address of the planet where Teyla had been taken, so when I got back, we went after her. But the place was booby-trapped, came down on our heads. Fortunately, Teyla wasn’t there yet, but Ronon and I were caught pretty deep in the rubble, and I... was injured.”

“How badly?”

“Enough that I lost consciousness for a while. I don’t know how long I was out. I do know that for some reason... I had this dream. It’s been five years, and I still can’t forget it.”

She shifted to face him more fully.

“Me and Teyla, we were back on Atlantis, having dinner—red wine, lots of candles, y’know. I think the candles were partly ’cause there were a couple of fires near where I was trapped. Anyway, we were talking, and she thanked me for rescuing her. And she said, ‘I never gave up hope, because I knew. I _knew_ that you would come for me, John.’” He paused. “The weird thing was, when it was all over, we’d saved her, she’d had Torren, we were back in Atlantis in the infirmary... she thanked me for real. And she said the _exact same thing_ she’d said in my dream.”

“Huh.”

“Now, I dunno if it was... some kind of vision, or if Teyla or Torren sent me the dream—normally, even TJ can’t connect with me using the Gift, but when they were working together while she was pregnant, they were pretty powerful. What I do know is that that was the moment I had to admit to myself once and for all that I hadn’t just wanted to save her because she’s my teammate, because she’s my friend. I mean, I would have done the same thing for any of our people, but... there was more to it with Teyla. And I didn’t have that with Nancy. Elizabeth had been close, but it wasn’t the same.” He paused again, then smiled ruefully. “Not sure I’m puttin’ this very well.”

“I understand what you mean, though.” She didn’t think she’d be able to verbalize that moment from the Si Vales Valeo or its aftermath as well as he’d explained his dream, even in Romanian, but she did understand. “And that... does help me, more than I can say.”

He looked her in the eye. “You’re a nice girl, Agatha. You deserve someone who’s going to love you for who you are and will do everything he can to make your dreams come true because that makes _his_ dreams come true. I couldn’t give that to Nancy, but Teyla... let’s just say we have a lot of the same dreams.”

“If I... if I feel that way about him, that we share... something like that... how should I tell him?”

“Was there, like, a moment like that?”

“Similar enough.”

He grimaced. “I’m not... really good at talking about things like that, but just thinking about it as a guy... maybe say something, something you said, something he said, just some word or phrase that was important in that moment, that he’d recognize and understand. That tells him he didn’t imagine it, that you remember it and it was meaningful to you, too. I guarantee he’ll react, even if he tries to hide it, like I did. And either he’ll be scared off or he’ll stick around because he actually does love you. Either way, you’ll have your answer.”

She nodded and smiled. “Thank you, Herr Oberst. That really does help.”

He smiled back and stood. “You’re welcome. Good night.”

“Good night.”

Just as he left, Violetta finally returned with a huge bowl of popcorn and a couple of sodas. “What did Col. Sheppard want?” she asked as she set everything on the bench.

“Oh, nothing,” Agatha replied. “We were just talking.”

“About what?”

“The uncertainty principle.” Agatha smiled at Violetta’s skeptical look and picked up the tablet again. “Here, let me back up—you’ve got to see this fight between Zeetha and Gil....”

* * *

* Story adapted slightly from the plot of the 1902 novella _Die stilisierte Frau_ ( _The Stylized Woman_ ) by Frieda von Bülow, which still infuriates me over a decade after I had to read it for a class. In the original, Count Gyrlani has sown his wild oats until they caught up with him, but despite his fragile health rendering him unable to perform certain husbandly duties, he marries a girl from a wealthy Protestant family (otherwise unmarriageable in Catholic Austria) and then not only refuses to consummate the marriage but emotionally abuses her in an attempt to make her look like the Madonna in the Pieta. The published ending implies that she’s going to have an ongoing affair with his doctor out of sheer desperation, but in the first draft, she kills herself—and there’s no one to avenge her. 


	10. Part 3: Results, Chapter 1: I Think I'm A Clone Now

Carson didn’t remember the last time he’d felt this _giddy_ about something going right. He’d had his share of triumphs, sure, both before and after being cloned, but he didn’t think even his most unequivocally good achievement to date, the ATA gene therapy, had left him wanting to do cartwheels. Returning to Atlantis after being rescued from Michael? Atlantis rising the first time? John’s agreement to join the Atlantis expedition, which at the time had meant mainly that people wouldn’t be relying on Carson for his ATA gene? Getting into med school, his ticket out of working-class life in Paisley?

Well, in the end, it didn’t matter. Even if everything else about Lady Heterodyne’s plan failed utterly, even if her attempt to save her own universe killed her, at least she’d die free. Carson now had the means to ensure that.

It took every ounce of self-control he had to walk from the Jumper bay to the transporter and thence to Lady Heterodyne’s lab rather than running. He couldn’t keep from grinning, though, and he didn’t even pause to knock when he burst in.

“Agatha!” he cried, forgetting his place entirely and ignoring the looks he got from Todd, Krosp, and Lady Mondarev. “Agatha, luv, _we found it!_ ”

Thanks be to God, Lady Heterodyne wasn’t doing anything that could explode or catch fire; she was on the floor on a roller board, halfway under something that looked like a cart. Startled, she dropped her spanner, then rolled out far enough to sit up. “You found—oh! The Asgard facility!”

“Aye! The planet itself has no Stargate, but there’s one fairly nearby, only two hours by Jumper. The atmosphere’s suitable for life, unlike the planets where the Asgard had been hiding from the Wraith. And Radek’s confirmed that all systems are functional; there’s plenty of power; and we can stop the process after the body is formed but before the personality is copied.”

Krosp’s ears pricked up. “How soon?”

“Thursday or Friday, probably. Radek’s gone to brief Mr. Woolsey, and then we’ve the separation stage to set up and test. I’ll also set up a charade to convince Lady Mongfish she’s being captured. But barrin’ a major galactic crisis? We’ll have her in the brig before the week’s out.”

Lady Heterodyne grinned in delight and jumped up to hug Carson. “I can’t thank you enough, Herr Doktor.”

Carson smiled and returned the hug. “It’s my pleasure, milady.”

“This separation stage,” Todd cut in. “You _are_ planning to use a Wraith culling beam, I take it?”

Carson released Lady Heterodyne. “Aye, we’ve done it before.”

“Nevertheless, I believe I should assist Dr. Zelenka with as much of the process of retrieving the equipment and setting it up at the site as possible. At the very least, I can provide diagrams and instructions, even if Mr. Woolsey does not allow me to accompany you.” And before anyone could agree or disagree, he left, followed by his guards.

“We’ll need some way to deactivate the locket temporarily,” Lady Heterodyne noted, slipping back into Spark mode, “like a short aetheric—er, electromagnetic pulse, and we should probably take hers off afterward, but Violetta has the key, so—what?” she broke off as Carson chuckled suddenly, now that Todd was out of earshot.

Carson nodded toward the door. “Todd, bein’ a right mother hen. You’re a bad influence, milady,” he teased.

“So I’m told,” she replied brightly.

Violetta and Krosp laughed.

So did Carson. “Locket, aye, wise idea.”

“We’ll need to record the separation, too,” Lady Heterodyne continued. “We can get some sort of pocket-sized playback device to take back with us, can’t we?”

“Aye, I think so. You’re worried about the baron?”

Lady Heterodyne nodded. “He’ll need proof that I’m not my mother. I should be able to coordinate a way to cure him of the wasp’s control, but that probably won’t be enough to convince him. Once he is convinced, of course, he’ll know what to do when I turn her over to him.”

“All right. We’ll want to make sure the equipment’s properly protected if we do use an EMP to disable the locket, probably with a Faraday cage, but I think we can get a camera that’s well enough shielded to do the job.”

“Excellent. Thank you.”

Carson turned his attention to the cart-looking thing, which had a platform on either side that looked big enough to hold a stretcher. “What’s this you’re workin’ on?”

“A hover cart,” Lady Heterodyne replied. “Dr. McKay approved the design yesterday. The bottom edge of the portal opening is a good half-meter above the ground, and we’ll have Martellus and my mother to transport plus all of the equipment and the three of us. The wasp eater can ride on my shoulder, of course, but there’s only so much we can carry. Which reminds me that I haven’t asked: _can_ we sedate them both with something that will keep them asleep until they’re given the antidote?”

“Aye, though I’d not count on it lasting more than twelve hours. We’ve enough hypospray vials to spare, though, so I’ll send a second dose just in case.”

“I’d better check the stuff first,” Violetta said. “If Martellus had Smoke Knight training, he’s immune to most conventional sedatives, but one that’s not known in our world should still work on him.”

Carson nodded. “Fair enough.”

Lady Heterodyne hummed briefly. “How many injectors can you send? That would be a great way to treat the baron, but if you can’t send more than two, we can probably work something out.”

Carson chuckled. “I’ll ask Dr. Keller. So tell me about your hover cart!”

Not being an engineer, he understood only about half of Lady Heterodyne’s explanation, though it seemed she’d adapted several concepts from the design of the Jumpers. It wasn’t space- or sea-worthy and had no built-in weapons, but it did have both cloaking and shield capability, and the space beneath the platforms was quite sensibly divided into storage bins. “Dr. McKay was quite excited about the possibilities for other applications,” she concluded. “In fact, one of the conditions for his approval was that I agree to let Stargate Command keep the design, which I thought was only fair.”

Carson chuckled. “I’m sure Mr. Coolidge will have kittens trying to stop it going into mass production.”

“I resent that metaphor,” said Krosp. “If Coolidge is any animal at all, he’s a mimmoth.”

“Miniature mammoth,” Violetta explained when Carson blinked in confusion. “They’re mouse-sized and have a tendency to wander into machinery and stop up the works.”

Carson snorted in amusement. “I’ll have to remember that.”

“Well, whatever he is,” Lady Heterodyne said, retrieving her dropped spanner at last, “he’ll probably have twice the fits over the file I sent with the latest data burst. I found a way to dial _Destiny_ without having to draw power from the core of an Icarus-class planet or attempting something on the order of Project Arcturus, which we already know would be a disaster. Of course, my solution’s only theoretical at the moment, but I probably wouldn’t be able to do much better on site anyway.”

“Really? Why not?”

“It requires drawing power from the core of a star instead.” And as everyone else laughed, she grinned cheekily and ducked back under the hover cart to finish whatever adjustments she’d been working on when Carson had interrupted.

Preparations for the separation procedure went smoothly... almost too smoothly, though Todd did have a couple of flaming rows with Woolsey over whether he’d be allowed to help supervise. Carson hoped that would satisfy Murphy’s Law well enough that there’d be no worse hiccups later. But all systems tests were good, and Thursday found Carson in a Jumper’s co-pilot’s seat beside Evan while Radek triple-checked the video camera’s shielding and the young ladies sat in the back, chatting quietly in Romanian—about the locket, Carson thought, but he couldn’t be sure. Lady Heterodyne was wearing the mauve dress she’d made to suit her mother’s tastes, but she’d brought her black offworld uniform to change into before the separation. Baron Wulfenbach might not be able to see fine detail on the five-inch screen of the smartphone Carson would be sending back with Lady Heterodyne, but the difference in outfits should still be clear enough this way.

“Hey, Doc?” Evan suddenly asked quietly. “You sure we don’t need more of a security detail on this?”

Carson shook his head. “Lady Mongfish won’t have time to gain full consciousness before the separation, and after... well, Rodney and Cadman collapsed the moment they rematerialized. But even if that doesn’t happen this time, Lady Mongfish strikes me as a planner, not a runner. She’ll try seduction first. That gives us plenty o’ time to sedate her for the trip back to Isolation.”

“Well, I guess if she’s in good enough shape that she does try to make a break for it, we won’t have to put her in Isolation. We can just take her straight to the brig and you can ‘sneak in’ to explain. Or something.”

“Aye, true. Suppose we’d best cross that bridge when we come to it, though.”

A second Jumper with the rest of Evan’s team, a medical team, and several engineers from Radek’s department had left an hour earlier to finish the last of the setup, so everything was ready the moment Lady Heterodyne and Lady Mondarev followed Carson and Evan through the door. Lady Heterodyne was quick to surmise that the place had once been an Ancient lab but was intrigued by the Asgard technology, which she hadn’t encountered before. Carson and Radek took turns explaining what everything was and at least some of how it worked.

“And this,” Carson concluded, having saved the key component for last, “is the cloning table. We’ll have you lie here while it takes a scan. Then—”

“No,” Lady Heterodyne suddenly interrupted, no longer in Spark mode and looking rather sad. “I’m sorry, Herr Doktor, but... please don’t explain this part.”

Carson frowned. “All right, but... why not?”

“Because I’d remember it. I’d take that knowledge home with me. And Europa does not need this technology.” Lady Heterodyne put a hand on the table surface. “My mother caused my brother’s death. She had her servants search for me only so that they could copy her into my mind. I was just a tool to her. If she’d been able to copy her own body this way... I’m not sure if I’d ever have been born.”

“I suppose it depends on whether her plans required her to have Heterodyne DNA,” Lady Mondarev replied quietly. “But the Mongfishes were biology sparks—she might have found a way that didn’t require bearing Bill Heterodyne’s children, like the ATA gene therapy.”

Carson shuddered involuntarily. “That’s a disturbing thought. Aye, milady, I’ll not burden you with that knowledge.”

Lady Heterodyne visibly relaxed. “Thank you.”

“In that case,” Radek suggested, “should we go ahead and get started?”

Carson nodded. “Aye. Milady, if you would?”

Lady Heterodyne promptly handed her pack to Lady Mondarev and lay down on the table, and Lady Mondarev helped her get situated. Then Radek ducked into the Faraday cage shielding the computer equipment, checked his readings, and initiated the scan. After the flash, Lady Heterodyne got up again and joined Carson, Evan, and Lady Mondarev well out of the way while Radek triple-checked everything. Another flash followed, and when it faded, there was a second Lady Heterodyne on the table.

“ _Fulger dulce_ ,” the original breathed.

“Hullo, dear,” Carson said gently as he approached the table. “Are you feeling all right?”

The clone blinked at him, her eyes vacant and her face blank. He tried again in German and in Romanian—having previously asked Lady Heterodyne for a few useful Romanian phrases—and still got no response.

“Right. Let’s just take it slow, then.” He turned to Lady Mondarev, who handed Lady Heterodyne’s pack to someone else and came over to unlock the locket clasp. Removing the locket didn’t result in the clone exhibiting any sign of having Lady Mongfish in residence (or Lady Heterodyne, for that matter). So while Lady Mondarev put the locket in a containment box and took it inside the Faraday cage for safe-keeping, Carson helped the clone sit up and then stand, and one of the medics came over to assist in guiding her to the target area for the culling beam. “Just stand here,” he instructed her as he backed away. “This will just take a moment.”

The clone blinked uncomprehendingly but stayed still. Radek didn’t waste any time beaming her into the Wraith storage buffer.

“Well, that was somewhat disturbing,” said Lady Heterodyne.

“If all goes well, though, she’ll not be such a blank slate when you next see her,” Carson replied. “You’d best go and change, milady, while we set up the camera.”

Lady Heterodyne nodded, and Lady Mondarev followed her as a nurse showed them down the hall to another room. They returned just as Radek finished setting up the camera, by which time Carson had figured out how to frame his address to Baron Wulfenbach. From there, it was only a matter of moments to get everyone in their places: Radek back in the Faraday cage, one of his assistants behind the camera, and Evan’s team ranged around the target area for the culling beam. Lady Heterodyne and Lady Mondarev took their positions as well, and after quickly checking that everyone knew what to do, Carson had the assistant start the recording, said his piece, and got on with the separation.

Radek didn’t waste any time between triggering the EMP and activating the culling beam, so Lady Mongfish didn’t have time to surface before dematerializing. And as expected, both Lady Heterodyne and her clone collapsed immediately after rematerializing. Carson stepped back in front of the camera to add a closing reassurance to the baron while the medics went to work, but as soon as the assistant stopped the recording, Carson hurried over to Lady Heterodyne’s side. She started to rouse a bit just as he reached her gurney.

“Milady?” he asked cautiously, putting a hand on her shoulder.

Her eyes fluttered open, and she gave him a tired but triumphant smile. “Viva Las Vegas,” she replied—the code they had set earlier in the day to confirm that the separation had worked as intended.

There were exclamations of relief all around, and Carson patted her shoulder. “Just rest now, m’dear. You’ll be right as rain in a few hours.”

She murmured something else in Romanian and drifted off again.

When Carson looked up at Lady Mondarev for a translation, she looked like she was fighting tears despite her smile. “She said, ‘It’s a small price to pay for freedom,’” Lady Mondarev stated quietly.

A groan from the other gurney saved Carson from having to come up with an answer, and he hurried over before the other young woman’s eyes opened and her brow creased in confusion. “ _Was... wo...._ ”

“Lady Mongfish?” Carson asked.

“Dr. Beckett,” she returned promptly if groggily. “What is the meaning of this?”

“I’m sorry, milady. It’s part of the plan. We have to sedate you in order to get you away safely.”

Lady Mongfish grumbled a little. “Oh, all right. But you _will_ explain everything after.”

“Of course, milady.”

The medic with the sedative administered it quickly, and Lady Mongfish was out cold in a matter of seconds.

“Right,” said Carson to the room at large. “Let’s get them back to Atlantis.”

The flight back was uneventful, and scans in the infirmary confirmed that Lady Heterodyne was alone in her mind once more. So Carson left Lady Mondarev cautiously picking the clockwork out of Lady Heterodyne’s locket, and went to Isolation.

Jennifer met him at the door. “Carson. You’re gonna want to look at this.”

Carson’s gut twisted. He should have known this whole thing was going too smoothly. “Is it residual damage from the locket?”

“No, not that we can tell.” Jennifer stepped aside to usher Carson into the room. “And so far all our scans are suggesting it’s only Lady Mongfish in there. But I guess what you found was an old facility, abandoned before the Asgard had perfected the process based on their experiments with humans. Look.” She pointed to a monitor. “There’s already been some cellular degradation.”

Carson looked at the readings and frowned. “That’s a bit fast, innit? It’s only been a few hours.”

“Yes, but those are only the very earliest signs. It’s not as severe or as fast as yours, probably because Lady Heterodyne is so young. But still... I mean, she might not start showing the effects before the end of next week, but I wouldn’t want to gamble on her living more than two weeks.”

“Well, we’ve got the serum Michael developed to use on me. It should theoretically work just as well on her. I’d say we halve the dose, or thereabouts, and see if that does the trick.”

“I agree, but how are we gonna sell it to her?”

“When in doubt, tell the truth.”

“Will she believe it?”

“O’course not.” Carson chuckled at Jennifer’s skeptical face and patted her shoulder. “Leave it to me, luv.”

“Doctor?” Marie, the head nurse, suddenly interrupted. “We’ve administered the antidote. It looks like she’ll be waking up in a few minutes.”

“Right,” said Carson and looked up to the observation deck. “You all set?”

Evan waved. “Ready when you are, Doc,” he replied through the intercom. “You’re patched into our radios; we’ll wait for your cue.”

“Great. Everyone else out o’ the room, please.”

As Jennifer herded the rest of the staff away, Carson sat down on the edge of the bed to wait. Only five minutes or so later, Lady Mongfish took a deep breath, opened her eyes, and looked at him.

“Sorry about that,” he said. “I’m afraid the Council won’t allow me to tell you the details, but it was much easier to transport you while you were unconscious.”

“Tch. The Council,” she replied. “Lot of old fusspots. Still, I suppose I should be grateful they sent you at all.” Then she felt of her throat, and her eyes widened in shock. “The locket—you removed it!”

“Aye, once it was safe. Lady Mongfish, I... I have to tell you... I had to separate you from your daughter. It’s rather a long story, but....”

She held up a hand to examine. “I am still in her body. And now she cannot fight me for it anymore.” Then she smiled seductively at him and ran her hand up his arm as she sat up. “Please allow me to show you my gratitude.”

“Please, milady, there’s not much time.”

She slid her hand over to the back of his neck and started to pull him forward, but before she could actually kiss him, the door whooshed open and Evan and twelve Marines barged in. “Well, well, well,” said Evan. “What have we here?”

Carson jumped up and spun to face them. “Wait! It’s not what it looks like! I—”

Evan raised a Wraith stunner and shot Lady Mongfish with it. “You all right, Doc?” he asked once she was unconscious again.

Carson blew the air out of his cheeks. “Aye, thank you. Excellent timing.”

“All right. Let’s get her to the brig.”

The Marines weren’t strictly necessary for escorting the gurney, since both Isolation and the brig were close to transporters, but there was no telling how quickly Lady Mongfish would recover from being stunned. Still, they got her settled quickly and stood their guard, and Carson dusted off his med school German and waited outside the cell once more until she came to again.

“My lady,” he stage-whispered in German as she sat up groggily.

She frowned at him and responded in the same language. “What, now you speak German?”

“The guards speak only English. And they cannot learn that I am in league with the Knights of Jove. How are you?”

“Tired of being knocked out and kept in the dark. Where are we?”

“I am not allowed to tell you. I am sorry. But I can tell you that we are not in Europa _or_ England.”

She brightened a bit. “Then I’m safe. I’m out of Klaus’ reach.”

“For now. I overheard the colonel talking with the base commander. They plan to send you back to Baron Wulfenbach in a couple of weeks.”

She pursed her lips. “Right. Can you get me out of here, Herr Doktor?”

He shook his head. “I am afraid not, my lady. The door lock is incredibly complex, and I cannot shut off the energy field that protects the cell. And even if I could, there is no escaping the city—the soldiers are everywhere, and the gate is too well guarded.”

She sighed. “Well, as long as they take me to Klaus personally, it won’t be a total loss. And my daughter?”

“I do not know,” he lied. “Listen, my lady, there is a good chance they will try to drug you to keep you from escaping. Do not fight them—but do not believe what they tell you about it, either.”

“I understand. Thank you.”

Just then Evan walked in. “All right, Doctor, you’ve had long enough,” he stated in English.

“I don’t know how you expect me to examine her from out here, Colonel,” Carson shot back.

“I said that’s _enough_. Now get out of here before I decide to turn you in for harboring a spy.”

Grumbling in Gaelic, Carson left, only to find John waiting for him in the hall.

“How’d it go?” John asked quietly.

“Quite well, actually,” Carson replied. “O’course, I can’t be certain she bought it; she’s a bright lady. But Lady Heterodyne’s sure her mother won’t have absorbed any of her memories to know which side I’m actually on.”

“Speakin’ of which, I just saw Agatha in the infirmary, and she had an idea. Rodney’s gonna set up a printer to get the results for her to take back. We’re gonna try to interrogate Lady Mongfish, but there’s a good chance it’s not gonna work. So what if we put her and von Blitzengaard together in the same cell for a while, let them interrogate each other?”

Carson’s eyebrows jumped. “Bit of a risk, that. Von Blitzengaard knows how long they’ve been here.”

“Eh, not exactly. Krosp’s been transcribing and translating his audio diaries for us. Von Blitzengaard’s time sense is startin’ to slip, and he’s almost talked himself into the delusion that he’s actually being held captive in some sort of time dilation field by someone called the Queen of the Mines—apparently it’s part of the legend of the original Storm King. I’m willing to bet that if Mongfish tells him he’s been here a week, he’ll believe it.”

Suddenly there was a shout and a zap from von Blitzengaard’s cell, and a guard radioed for a medic.

“I thought he’d _quit_ that,” John remarked.

“Well, it might make things a bit easier for us that he didn’t,” Carson returned. “If we move him while he’s still disoriented, he’ll be less likely to spill how long it’s been.”

John smiled. “I like that plan.” And as the medical team stepped out of the transporter, he went to head them off and inform them of Carson’s idea.

For his own part, Carson hung back until the transporter was free, then went to the infirmary to check on Lady Heterodyne.

* * *

Martellus was still too dazed to remember why he’d tried to lunge at the guards when the doctor finished his examination. “You really need to stop doing that, Your Highness,” the doctor said. “Your brain and your heart are already close to sustaining permanent damage. Too many more shocks, and you’ll kill yourself.”

Martellus grumbled something incoherent. It was somewhat disconcerting that even he couldn’t understand or remember what he’d tried to say.

“All right, since you’re already out of the cell, let’s get you to the restroom for a moment.”

The guards came over and escorted Martellus to the WC. But he got turned around somehow on the way back, and when he did return to the cell... there was someone else in it, a blonde girl lounging on the bench. He thought he should remember who she was, but he was having trouble placing her; the face didn’t seem to go with the dress, and she wasn’t wearing a sigil brooch. But she was interested in him, clearly—her eyes raked over him two or three times before the cell door closed.

“So you’re Hengst’s little boy,” she observed in Romanian. “I haven’t seen you since you were... what, eight or nine? I don’t know why my father wanted you as a pupil; you always liked that fool Vapnoople better. And your father never did trust me.” Her mouth curved upward into a cruel smile. “Too bad for him he’s not a spark. He may not remember it, but I’ve made sure he’ll always do _exactly_ what I want now.”

Martellus found his voice at last. “Lady Mongfish?”

“Surprised?” She sat up. “So am I. I heard you’d been captured, but I didn’t think that meant _here_.” She paused. “You don’t happen to know where here is, do you?”

“I... no. I can’t remember. I’m sorry.”

“Pity. I don’t suppose you know how to escape, either.”

“There is no escape,” he confessed, walking toward her. “I’ve tried. The energy field on the cell is impenetrable, and the guards are as skilled as Smoke Knights. _And_ there’s at least one Jäger here.”

“I suppose that’s to be expected. They’re in league with Klaus. Come sit down, Martellus dear; you look exhausted.”

“Shocked,” he corrected as he sat down. “I touched the field again. Perhaps they’re right; perhaps I am... causing myself harm.”

“Oh, poor darling.” She slid closer, put a hand on his back, and started to rub lightly. The touch made him shiver. “Is it true,” she asked more quietly, “that the guards speak only English?”

“I... yes. So far as I know. And I don’t believe there’s any sort of recording device in here. At least, I’ve never been able to see one.”

“All the same, perhaps we should, ah... cover our words with other actions, so to speak.” She put her other hand on his knee.

His heart started pounding. “What about your daughter?”

“My daughter’s not here. It’s just me. And besides, don’t you need a Heterodyne girl at your side to become the Storm King?”

“The guards—”

“Shh. Just a kiss.” She gave him a peck on the cheek. “Though I daresay you’re more experienced than Tarvek. Did you really kill him?”

“Yes, I... is that a problem?”

“No. Not at all. He was trying to steal my work. But I’ll give you the empire,” she added in a low purr, “if you give me what I want.”

He embraced her without thinking. “It’s been so _long_....”

“Shhhh. Now tell me: do they have a portal here?”

“I—yes, I think so. They keep asking me for the coordinates to Mechanicsburg.”

“Hmmm. I don’t particularly want to go back there, but it would give us a chance to get to Klaus, assuming he’s still nearby. If we can find a way out, you’ll need to draw off the guards while I set the controls.”

“That makes sense.”

“I’ve never had to jump into Mechanicsburg, though—most other places in the network, yes, but not there. I’ll need the coordinates.”

“All right.” He told her what they were, then pulled back and grabbed her chin. “But for now, no more talk.” And he kissed her.

(Across the city, while McKay cursed at the printer he was trying to install, Krosp wrote down the coordinates Lantea had transcribed on the monitor he was watching and radioed Zelenka to come finish the calculations of the Gate address Agatha needed to get home.)


	11. Part 3, Chapter 2: The Return

Agatha’s last two weeks were a blur of preparation, gathering equipment and finalizing equations and cramming in a last few hours of movies and conversation. While Agatha and Violetta kept busy in the labs and around the city, Krosp kept busy transcribing conversations between Martellus and Lucrezia, who were allowed a few hours’ visit every afternoon to seduce information out of each other. More than once Agatha found herself wishing she could find a way to return, to bring Gil here and explore more of the city at their leisure. But something always happened—an offworld crisis, an argument in a lab, a threat from the IOA—that reminded her why she couldn’t stay. And then, on her last Saturday in Atlantis, all her friends got together to watch the original _Star Wars_ trilogy, which left her inspired and ready to return to the fight for Mechanicsburg. 

Baron Wulfenbach was no Emperor Palpatine, true; that threat came more from her mother. And Tarvek wasn’t exactly Luke Skywalker, not least because he’d actually been brought up in a politically-minded household of royal sparks. But if Gil was Han Solo—he even looked a bit like Harrison Ford—and Agatha was Princess Leia, maybe the strength of their love and Tarvek’s friendship could propel them to victory over The Other’s plans as Han, Luke, and Leia had overcome the Empire.

Monday morning saw a last frantic burst of packing and securing before Dr. Beckett took the hover cart off to the brig. There was just enough time for breakfast before Agatha had to go collect the wasp eater from the biology department, and then the travelers went to the Gateroom for the last time, arriving at the same time as Dr. Beckett pulled in with Martellus, back in his Storm King clothes, and Lucrezia sedated and secured to the cart’s platforms. Herr Woolsey was waiting to receive her report on the exploit, which she handed over cheerfully, and had to visibly restrain himself from making a long farewell speech. A large contingent of Agatha’s friends had turned out to say goodbye as well, and time didn’t permit her to spend very long speaking to each one. Still, she shook as many hands as she could, and so did Violetta and Krosp.

Col. Lorne, however, gave her a hug. “Take care of yourself, Sparky.”

“Thank you for everything, Herr Oberst,” Agatha replied.

Todd put his hands on her shoulders with a surprisingly gentle smile. “Did I not tell you that you would succeed?”

Agatha chuckled. “You know, you’re welcome to come with us. The Jäger horde would be happy to have another smart guy.”

“I thank you. But even if Mr. Woolsey would permit me to leave the city... my place is here. Your stars are not mine. And if there is to be any hope of saving my kind with Dr. Keller’s gene therapy, I will have to be the one to convince the others to accept it.”

“All right. I understand. Thank you for all your help.”

“Farewell, my queen,” he said quietly in Wraith. “I shall remember you all my days.”

“And I you,” she replied and kissed his cheek.

“You got this, Agatha,” Ronon said as she moved over to take leave of him and of Amelia. “If anybody can pull this off who’s not us, it’s you.”

Agatha laughed. “Thank you.”

“Gonna miss having you around for movie nights, though,” Amelia confessed.

“I’ll miss having movie nights! But thank you both for training with me.”

“Eh, it was fun,” Ronon replied with a smile.

Agatha hugged them both before turning to Dr. Zelenka, who handed her a data crystal. “This contains the dialing information for the Mechanicsburg portal,” he explained. “Gen. Carter will be going with you, so she can explain how to do this, but simply insert the crystal in the dialing device on P9E-384, and it will dial the Gate automatically until it connects.” Then he handed a slip of paper to Violetta. “And these are the coordinates you must set on the other end to let your doubles pass through.”

“Thank you so much, Herr Doktor,” Agatha said. “Your help has been invaluable.”

Dr. Zelenka beamed. “It’s been a very interesting challenge, and it’s been a pleasure working with you.”

“Likewise.”

“Yes, we _try_ not to encourage him,” Dr. McKay chimed in, but the comment had the air of a very old tease, and Dr. Zelenka only rolled his eyes in response.

Dr. Beckett was next. “Milady.”

“Herr Doktor, I can’t thank you enough,” she said and hugged him.

“You take care o’ yoursel’, now.”

“I will. You, too.”

“Keep an eye on your mom,” Dr. Keller cautioned. “If something goes wrong, she may not have more than a week or two before her tissues start to break down.”

“Well, with any luck, that won’t be my problem for long,” Agatha replied. “But thank you for your concern and your help. And the same to you, Herr Doktor,” she added to Dr. McKay. “Thanks, too, for the use of your piano.”

“Hey, no problem,” Dr. McKay replied. “And thank you for, y’know, not blowing up half the city or anything.”

She laughed, knelt to hug Torren, and stood again to face the Sheppards. “Thank you both for everything.”

“It has been an honor to know you, Agatha,” Teyla said and stepped forward to touch foreheads with her. “And you have been a good friend to the people of this galaxy as well. I know you will succeed in saving your own world.”

Agatha smiled and swallowed down the lump in her throat. “Thank you. Herr Oberst,” she added as Teyla stepped back, “I will miss our runs.”

“So will I,” Col. Sheppard confessed. “Go get ’em, Sparky.”

She hugged him. “I will.”

“Take care,” he whispered as he hugged her back.

 _I also wish you well, Agatha_ , Lantea whispered as Agatha finally let go of Col. Sheppard. _I will miss you._

 _And I you_ , Agatha replied. _Take care, Lantea._

“All right, Chuck,” Herr Woolsey called. “Dial the Gate.”

As Agatha, Violetta, and Krosp took their places on the hover cart, Chuck dialed, and the Gate connected. Agatha turned to wave to everyone one last time, then swallowed hard once more and drove through the Gate to Earth.

Gen. Carter was waiting at the bottom of the ramp with an assistant Agatha didn’t recognize. “You’re right on time,” she said as Agatha drove up to her. “You ready to get home?”

“Yes and no,” Agatha admitted. “We’ve made good friends here, but... we still have our own world to save.”

“Yeah, I know how it is.” Gen. Carter turned and looked up at the control room. “Dial it up, Walter.”

A warning klaxon sounded as the Gate began to dial out. Agatha had just enough time to turn the cart around before the wormhole connected, and then they were off again to P9E-384.

“This planet used to be under the control of the Goa’uld Ishtar,” Gen. Carter explained as they arrived in what looked like Babylonian ruins. “About a hundred years ago, our allies the Tok’ra killed Ishtar by destroying the Gate that was originally in the temple here. Then they replaced the Gate a few years later, once the people had gotten used to their freedom and the Goa’uld System Lords had lost interest in the planet.”

“I see,” said Agatha. “And this is the planet to which we’re to send our doubles as well?”

“Yes, it’ll be safe enough. They’ll be affected by the same solar flare, but they should be arriving at a time when the Tok’ra are active here and can take care of them.” Gen. Carter sounded strangely certain of that, but Agatha decided not to ask questions. “Did Zelenka give you the data crystal for the DHD?”

“He did, yes.” Agatha pulled the data crystal from one of the many pouches on her belt and handed it to Gen. Carter, who went to the dialing device, quickly opened a panel on the base, and inserted the crystal.

“I left orders to keep the Earth Gate dialed out for the next hour so we won’t be able to connect to it by accident,” Gen. Carter said as the Gate began to dial. “The solar flare should begin within the next ten minutes, but we’ll have to time your departure to the second to get you back to the right year.” She handed a radio to Violetta. “Keep transmitting a signal until you get through, then radio back when you see where you are. If something does go wrong, we’ll figure out a solution as fast as we can.”

Violetta nodded. “Understood, Frau General.”

The Gate failed to connect, shut down, and started to dial again. The assistant stepped over to the dialing device to monitor it, and Gen. Carter kept an eye on her watch. Agatha got turned around again and tried to calculate how fast she’d need to go and how hard to brake on the other side.

Finally, after almost exactly ten minutes, the wormhole connected. Violetta activated the radio and her hunting light, but Agatha waited until Gen. Carter yelled “GO!” to send the hover cart through the Gate.

They arrived in mid-air, startling the Crypt Keeper that was on guard in the room that was lit with a green glow from the cathedral portal, rather than the blue of the Stargate. “Who goess there?!” the Crypt Keeper hissed in Romanian.

“Agatha Heterodyne,” Agatha replied.

“Misstresss! What are you doing here? We thought you were sstill in the casstle!”

“What day is it? Include the year!”

The Crypt Keeper’s reply nearly made her faint with relief. It was the day of the siege.

Violetta raised the radio to her mouth as Agatha lowered the hover cart to the ground and shut it off. “Gen. Carter, this is Mondarev,” she reported in English. “We’ve made it.”

“Thank God,” Gen. Carter radioed back. “Pleasure knowing you both. Godspeed.”

“Thank you, Frau General.” Violetta switched off the radio, and the portal shut down.

And a split second later, the Doom Bell rang.

“That’s appropriate,” Krosp deadpanned.

“Yes, and that tells us what time it is,” Agatha noted. “It’s going to be an hour or two before the coast is clear enough for me to take her back to the castle for safe-keeping. So we might as well start setting things up in here.”

“Right,” Krosp and Violetta chorused and started unpacking the naquadah generator while the wasp eater scampered down from Agatha’s shoulder to explore the room.

“Er, Misstresss....” the Crypt Keeper began.

“Long story,” Agatha interrupted. “There’s time travel involved. But the short version is, we need to secure this room. Tell no one that you’ve seen us— _especially_ not the abbess. Is that clear?”

“Yess, Misstresss.”

Krosp and Violetta got the generator and the shield emitter set up while Agatha checked on Martellus and Lucrezia, who were still well sedated. But Agatha had to be the one to connect the two devices and test their function, which took half an hour mainly because the Crypt Keeper kept interrupting with questions. She managed not to snap at him, because she actually did need to take her time for reasons beyond working with a nuclear reactor, but it was irritating all the same.

When gritting her teeth caused an audible squeak, however, the Crypt Keeper stepped back and bowed so deeply his wrappings almost fell off. “Forgive me, Misstresss. You are working. I sshould not intrude.”

“Apology accepted,” Agatha replied. “Go find out what’s going on out there, would you?”

“Yess, Misstresss.” The Crypt Keeper obediently shuffled out of the room.

Krosp watched him go with a frown. “Why _does_ your family have undead townspeople guarding the cathedral crypts?”

“Why does my family do anything?” Agatha returned wearily. “They were _Heterodynes_. And they could.”

While the Crypt Keeper was gone, Agatha finished testing the shield emitter, and she and Violetta got the shape charge set to deploy. Then they unloaded Martellus and stuffed him in a corner. Krosp was just about to switch the shield over to a cloak when the Crypt Keeper returned.

“The air iss clear, Misstresss,” he wheezed. “At leasst, none of the airsshipss are firing. But I do not ssee....”

“No, you don’t, and you won’t. Are you ready, Violetta?”

“We’ll take care of things here,” Violetta replied. “You go on. See you after the battle.”

Krosp pulled the switch, and the shield emitter gave its characteristic groan as the invisibility field raised over the emitter, the generator, the bomb, the cat, and the humans in the corner. The Crypt Keeper’s jaw threatened to fall off.

“Please hold the door open for me,” Agatha asked then.

“Yess, Misstresss,” the Crypt Keeper rasped and did so.

 _Cart cloak on_ , Agatha ordered mentally, and a quieter groan heralded the cloak’s deployment around the hover cart. Then she powered up the cart, lifted it several centimeters off the floor, and zipped out past the astounded Crypt Keeper, through the crypts to a flight of stairs, and then up to the cathedral’s courtyard. She hadn’t ever been in this part of the building herself, but it had been pictured briefly in _Agatha Heterodyne and the Siege of Mechanicsburg_ , so she knew it was an open-air space. Now that most of the heaviest equipment had been unloaded, the cart was capable of enough altitude to climb over the cathedral’s roof and fly directly to the castle—or as directly as one could while dodging flying idiots like Cornelius Senear and his Aeroapes. There weren’t many of them, but they did seem to cross Agatha’s path with greater frequency than she’d have liked without a Jumper.

Finally, however, she soared past the castle wall and landed in a courtyard. After taking a moment to catch her breath, she dropped the cloak and called, “Castle?”

“Mistress!” the castle replied, stunned. “What—how—why are there two— _three_ of you? And what are two of you doing here when there is so much to be done in town?”

“Never mind the why and wherefore,” Agatha returned, then caught herself before she could start singing the comic opera tune she’d just quoted.* “I’m sure you’ll overhear me telling Gil later on. The one across town is still me and needs your help. We’re forming a time loop.”

“Oh, dear. And you’ve crossed your own timeline. That’s generally Not Done.”

“Like that matters to a Heterodyne!”

“... True. And the third?”

“The third is a copy made to house my mother’s consciousness.”

The castle made a noise that was probably supposed to be a gasp. “And you’ve brought her to me to crush?!”

“NO! I’ve brought her here for safe-keeping until the battle’s over. I’m handing her over to the baron.”

“Can I torture her, then? Just a little?”

“ _No_. She’s sedated anyway; she wouldn’t feel it.”

“Hmph. Oh, all right.”

Agatha felt a headache coming on and missed Lantea terribly.

The castle did behave itself after that, however—probably at least in part because its power reserves were still dangerously low—and gave her directions to a secure dungeon with a nearby storage closet that had sufficient rope and a hood that Agatha could use to tie Lucrezia up before sending her to the baron. She debated doing so at once but then decided she really didn’t have time.

Once Lucrezia was situated in a cell, the castle directed Agatha to a safe place to store the hover cart and then to a tower that had a good view of Castle Wulfenbach. She paused long enough to eat a power bar while she considered the best way in; she couldn’t picture from the outside of the ship where any of Gil’s labs were. Finally she decided to aim for the school, since she more or less knew her way around from there. The castle offered her a receptacle for her trash, and then she put on her teleportation armband and personal cloak, activated them both, and teleported.

Even after practicing around Atlantis, Agatha found the armband’s warping of space dizzying. Still, she arrived in the school in one piece. _So far, so good_ , she thought and headed out to check Gil’s flight lab. She couldn’t be sure he’d be there, of course, but he had sent Tarvek down in an experimental flyer from his secret lab, so he might go back to the flight lab to attempt his escape if there was another flyer there.

It took forever to get to the lab, unfortunately, especially since she had to dodge people running here and there in answer to various klaxons. And of course she had no radio to find out what was going on. She made it in the end, however, and teleported into the lab past the sentry stationed at the door.

Gil wasn’t there. But Agatha hadn’t been waiting very long when a panel low in the wall opened and Gil’s construct Zoing hurried through, making distressed noises and wringing his blue claws.

“Zoing?” Agatha called quietly.

Zoing froze, his antennae straightening in alarm. “Hoozere?”

 _Cloak off_ , she ordered and stepped out of the shadows. “It’s me.”

“HEEP!” he gasped. “Prettigorl!”

She knelt as he ran toward her. “Where’s Gil?”

“Ugo. Dadmad. GotzGil. Killu.”

“I’m not leaving without Gil. Where is he?”

“Ugo! Ugo _now_!”

“Zoing.” She looked the little creature in his single eye. “I came here to help Gil, to stop what the baron wants to do to him. But I need you to help me find him.”

“ _Kill_ u,” he insisted, almost whining.

“Not if they can’t find me. Watch.” She turned the cloak on and back off.

He made some astonished noises before launching himself at her to give her a shaky hug.

“There, there,” she replied, running a hand down his back. “It’s going to be all right.”

He pulled himself together and clambered down from her lap. “Disway.”

She activated the cloak again and followed him closely enough that he would be hidden within the cloak field. He led her swiftly but silently through the giant airship toward several potential hiding places, but Gil wasn’t in any of them. She was just about to give up hope when they rounded a corner and spotted Gil hanging by one arm from a ventilation pipe, setting a little black notebook inside an open vent.

Then Gil froze for a second before his head whipped around and he looked _straight at her_ , eyes wide, and mouthed, _Agatha?!_

Her heart leapt as she nodded but sank again as he kept looking around wildly like he couldn’t actually see her. She started forward, thinking, _Cloak—_

Footsteps sounded behind her. “There he is!”

 _—on! Stay on!_ She flattened herself against the wall, and Zoing instinctively scuttled between her feet and stayed within the cloak area.

Gil, for his part, dropped to the floor and ran, not noticing the book falling out of the vent behind him. Unfortunately for him, there were troops coming from both directions, and he was surrounded before he could get more than a couple of meters down the hall. Nor could she get to him readily to disappear with him. He fought, however, and she decided to take advantage of the chaos.

As soon as she had the space, she crouched down and whispered, “Zoing! The book!”

Zoing made a barely audible noise of acknowledgment, zipped off, and zipped back brandishing the book, which Agatha grabbed before scooting him back inside the cloak area. He clung to her leg, trembling, and she kept one hand on his back as the other tucked the book into one of her many pockets. Then Gil cried out as somebody got him with a sedative, and soon the soldiers were lifting his unconscious form to cart back to the baron. Zoing made a tiny noise that might have been his equivalent of a sob.

“I know,” Agatha breathed, remembering Col. Lorne both restraining and comforting her. “I know. But I’ll get him out.” She knew just enough from _Girl Genius_ to know Gil wouldn’t be knocked out for long, but as close as the storm was, this was probably his last escape attempt before the baron forced him to consent to whatever mind control procedure he’d used. “I’ll stop this, I swear.”

“Ugud prettigorl,” Zoing whispered back.

One of the passing soldiers frowned and looked around as if he’d heard Zoing, but nobody stopped. Once the last of the group was a five-count ahead, Agatha patted Zoing on the back and stood, and he finally let go of her. And then she was off to follow the soldiers into the heart of the Death Star—er, Castle Wulfenbach.

* * *

“There is... hope for you yet,” Father said as he accepted Gil’s surrender and flipped the switch to drain the tank in which Gil was floating. “Now. There is a simple procedure which I shall perform on you momentarily. When it is complete, there will be other tasks with which I shall entrust you. You must not fight or attempt to flee, or the Heterodyne girl will die.”

Gil gritted his teeth and rested his forehead against the wall of the tank as his feet touched down. “Yes, Father,” he forced himself to say even as he tried to figure out a way to escape that wouldn’t jeopardize Agatha’s life.

He hated this whole messy situation, not being able to trust anyone, even Father, even himself. That buzz under his skin that told him Agatha was near, the residual effect of that last phase of the Si Vales Valeo when she’d saved them all—it couldn’t be real, could it? It had to be an illusion. Agatha was still on the walls of Mechanicsburg; he’d seen her there with his own eyes on Father’s viewscreen. He had to get a grip on himself, on reality, so he could counter Father’s plans at the first opportunity.

Once Gil was out of the tank, Father barely gave him time to towel off before marching him into another part of the lab and ordering him into a chair that looked an awful lot like one he’d seen in Lucrezia’s lab. Swallowing hard, he sat down and prayed for deliverance as Father strapped him in and settled one headpiece over his head.

“Just hold still,” Father said, put the second headpiece over his own head, and turned away to put his hand on the switch. “This will only take a moment.”

“ **Stop.** ”

Father froze with his hand on the switch handle, and Gil’s heart started pounding. That sounded like... but it couldn’t be...

“ **You have already completed the procedure** ,” ordered the voice that couldn’t possibly be Agatha’s except that it made Gil’s soul sing. “ **You will continue as normal, and you will not remember hearing these instructions.** ”

Gil had just enough time to slump forward, start panting, and let his eyes go unfocused before Father took off his headpiece and turned back to Gil.

“Gil?” Father brushed the hair back from Gil’s forehead with one hand as the other moved the second headpiece out of the way. “Are you still with me?”

“Uh,” Gil grunted and nodded.

“Rest a moment.”

Father pushed Gil to sit back against the back of the chair while he undid the restraints, missing the slight motion of Gil’s damp hair as invisible fingers carded through it the moment Father wasn’t looking. And as he stooped to release Gil’s feet, the voice breathed three words in Gil’s ear, so quietly he hoped Father wouldn’t have been able to hear them:

“ _I’ve got you._ ”

It was a good thing Gil was supposed to be suffering from whatever this procedure was. There was no way he could have hidden the way his breath caught and his heart stuttered. He’d almost forgotten—he’d thought that was a _dream_ , somehow, that accidental moment when their souls had touched and embraced, that raw instant of knowing and being known, of loving and being loved, without filters, without words. That hadn’t happened with Sturmvoraus, and Gil hadn’t had a chance since to ask Agatha if she remembered it, if it had been real. He could still be imagining things, of course, but... somehow he suspected he’d be finding out sooner than later. If she really was here, if she’d found some way to hide herself and smuggle herself on board, she must have a plan. And if she had a plan, she’d brief him on it as soon as she could.

“Can you stand?” Father asked as he straightened.

Gil pretended to struggle for breath a moment longer before nodding. “I... I think so.” But the way his limbs trembled as he rose wasn’t entirely an act.

Father nodded. “Good, good. Go clean up and get dressed. Then meet me in Bay 15 in one hour.”

“Yessir,” Gil sighed and dragged himself out of the lab, not bothering to look for his shirt or shake off the guards who were waiting outside the door to escort him back to his quarters. As he’d expected, the... _presence_ followed silently all the way.

Unfortunately, the guards went into his room with him. He couldn’t have _that_.

He heaved another weary sigh as he turned to them. “Does my father mistrust me even now?”

The guards looked at each other, and one fidgeted before replying, “Well, his orders were most specific....”

“I assure you, I couldn’t escape from here even if I wanted to. Wait outside.” When they continued to hesitate, Gil added, “Unless his orders include accompanying me even into the shower?”

At that, the guards beat a hasty retreat.

And exactly five seconds after the door closed, Agatha appeared, a strange brass armband with a circle of green lights in the center resting just above her left elbow and a smaller device falling from her bodice into her waiting left hand. “Great performance,” she whispered, smiling at him as she pocketed the smaller device. “If all else fails, we can go to England and join the circ _MPFH!_ ” she squeaked as Gil kissed her hard, hungrily, desperately.

He managed to keep enough self-control to keep his hands from going places they shouldn’t. Doing so by latching hold of the edges of her corset... well, at least he kept his hands outside her bodice. That was about the limit of the decorum he could muster, however. He couldn’t even think straight. She was here; she was real; she had saved him again. Finally, for the first time in hours, here was something, someone he could trust, and he clung to her like a drowning man.

Drowning. He needed to breathe. Right.

When he broke the kiss, she hauled in a deep breath before putting a hand to his chest and pushing a little. “Now, Gil....”

“Marry me,” he pleaded. “Marry me _now, please_ , before he changes his mind again—”

“Shh,” she interrupted, moving her hand up to put a finger on his lips. “We can talk about it once I get you out of here.” She kissed the tip of his nose lightly. “But first I need you to trust me.”

“I do.” He kissed her finger, and she withdrew it with an amused smile. “I trust you with my life.”

“All right. I have a plan, but you’re going to have to do exactly as I say. That includes playing along with your father for a few more hours, until I can set up a prisoner exchange.”

“Why can’t you get me out the same way you came in?”

“Because in order for this to work, I have to set up a stable time loop. That means I can’t change too much yet. I have a way to compensate for stopping what your father tried to do to you, but you can’t just disappear right now.”

“ _Time loop?!_ Agatha, what—”

She cut him off with a hand to his chest again. “It’s a long story. I can tell you everything after the exchange. But we don’t have time to go into it all in detail right now. Hurry and get your shower; I’ll tell you as much as I can while you dress.”

He sighed. “All right.” After a brief pause, he added, “Father... tried to tell me I’d been wasped. Years ago, back in Paris.”

She smiled sadly. “If that were true, you never would have tried to argue with me about anything. And you would have left the castle when I told you to.”

He swallowed hard. “Are you sure?”

“You saw how your father reacted when I gave him those orders just now—which I hated to do, by the way. When have you ever obeyed me at all, never mind as automatically as he did?”

“Well, there was that time you ordered me to live....”

She rolled her eyes. “Against your will, I mean. Besides, we were still synced for the Si Vales Valeo when that happened.”

With a huff of relief, he pulled her closer and buried his nose in her hair. “I thought I was losing my mind.”

“I can see why. But Tarvek said there was only one spark wasp anyway, and my mother used it on your father in Sturmhalten.”

“Thanks.”

She relaxed in his arms for the first time and rubbed his back gently. “Oh, Gil, I’ve missed you so much.”

“I haven’t been gone all that long.”

“Not you. I have. It’s been _months_.”

He pulled back in alarm. “Months?!”

“Shower,” she said sternly.

“Yes, Mistress,” he replied with a wink and kissed her cheek before heading into the bathroom and taking a very quick, very cold shower. A shirt, trousers, and underpants were waiting for him on the sink when he finished, so he put them on rapidly and returned to the bedroom, still buttoning his shirt, to find Agatha sitting at his desk looking at something he couldn’t see past her back.

“Wear the, um... the dark teal waistcoat with the violet trim,” she recommended without turning around. “And no brooch.” Now that he thought about it, there _was_ something different about the way she spoke, almost as if she’d been speaking another language—maybe English?—long enough for it to affect her pronunciation. That would square with her having been somewhere else for several months, although how she’d gotten back here apparently before she’d even left was a question for later.

“Are you all right?” he asked as he started toward his wardrobe.

“No. Yes. I—” She sighed. “We’re so short of time, and there’s no easy way to explain all of this.”

“Well, try.”

She finally turned to look at him as he pulled out the waistcoat she’d suggested. “Your father’s about to send you to capture me. That is, the version of me that’s still in Mechanicsburg. I’m probably on my way to recharge the castle now.”

“O-kay... this is why you can’t change too much yet?”

“Part of it. Look, before... you failed. We fought, and I had Franz bring you back here. And then your father... he did something, triggered some kind of device that stopped time in town. I think he was hoping to trap me along with him, but that didn’t work because Tarvek’s cousin Martellus stabbed Tarvek and kidnapped me through a portal in the cathedral just as your father triggered the device. Violetta and Krosp came through with us. I don’t know all the details from there because... well, I still don’t understand all of the physics behind the timeline split. I do know we escaped, and I helped you try to shut down the device. But something went wrong, and... and....” She looked down at the floor.

He started toward the bed, where his boots and socks were waiting. “It exploded?”

“Worse.”

“Destroyed the town?”

She dragged her eyes up to meet his again and couldn’t hide the haunted look in them. “The entire solar system.”

He sat down hard on the edge of the bed. It took him a moment to recover enough to reach for his socks. “Then how....”

“Because the portal was still open on this end, somehow the explosion sent the four of us to another universe, to _Atlantis_. The sparks we met there helped us get back. This time I’ve got to stop your father before he can trigger the device _and_ seal the rift between universes—but I still have to let Martellus kidnap the other version of me who hasn’t been through the loop yet.”

He nodded slowly as he pulled on his socks. “Which means I still have to fight with you. Her. Which means I have to look the same, act the same, all of that. And Franz still has to bring me back here so Father will go into town with the device.”

She sighed in relief. “Yes, exactly.”

“And Franz is....”

“Oh, my dragon.”

“... Of course he is.” He reached for his boots.

“And he sensed something was wrong when you first showed up.” She reached into one of the pouches on her belt, pulled out a golden choker, and handed it to him. “This is an exact duplicate of my locket, and it’s running. If you keep that in your pocket or something, it should cause enough of an aetheric disturbance around you that Franz will still react the same way.”

He opened the locket just long enough to see the pictures of Bill and Lucrezia Heterodyne. “Exact duplicate, huh?” he echoed as he tucked it into his waistcoat watch pocket. “How’d you manage that without... _her_ taking over?”

She smiled. “Almost anything is possible in Atlantis. They even got Mother out of my head.” She picked up the palm-sized device on the desk and turned it so he could see the viewscreen as he pulled on his boots, then played a short video recording proving her assertion.

“Huh. That’s... wow.”

“I’ll be giving a copy of this to your father, too.” She turned the device back to face her and pressed the screen a few times before coming over to sit beside him. “Now. Here are your lines.” And she handed it to him, revealing... a caricature.

An uncannily good caricature, down to the swirls on the gondola of the smallest airship in the Wulfenbach fleet, which he’d already concluded would be the one Father would want him to take.

“I know,” she said when he frowned. “It’s spooky. But it’s exactly the way I remember the conversation going. I’ll have to explain where we found it later.”

He blew the air out of his cheeks. “Right. Let me see this.”

She bit her lip. “You... think you can memorize it all? It’s a fairly long scene.”

“Sure. Photographic memory.”

“... Of course you have.”

She had to show him how to move and change the image, but after that he swiftly committed the pages to memory with the intent of reviewing them on the way to Mechanicsburg. “So what happens after Father leaves?” he asked as he handed the device back.

She pulled Sturmvoraus’ notebook out of another pocket. “I caught up with you just as you went to hide this,” she admitted sheepishly. So he _had_ sensed her out there. Huh. “But there’s a formula in here that we can use to cure your father. Once you get back, get to a lab and mix up a dose. Put it in this.” She pulled what looked like a syringe case out of yet another pocket. “Bring it down with you and hand it off to Gen. Goomblast as you pass each other during the exchange.”

He shook his head. “I’ll be watched too closely. I won’t have a chance. But you remember how to get to my main lab, right?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“And you can read those notes?”

“Yes. It’s a cipher Dr. Beetle sometimes used.”

“How much time will you need to get back to the ground?”

“Er, well, with this”—she gestured with her left elbow, indicating the device on it—“I should be able to get to the cathedral square almost instantly.”

“All right. The main lab should have all the supplies. You mix up the formula. Use your invisibility device. Then meet me on the bridge of Castle Wulfenbach and give me the syringe after Father leaves the room. That should still give you time to get to the cathedral before he does.”

“Gil....”

“Look, even if the people who think I’m wasped aren’t on the bridge when I get back, Father will put me in charge as soon as I walk in without you. If he hasn’t already announced his intention to take care of Mechanicsburg himself, he’ll do so then. _Everyone_ will be looking at me. I can’t just disappear into a lab for twenty minutes in the middle of a full retreat.” When she huffed, he caressed her cheek. “Hey, you asked me to trust you, remember? So I’m trusting you with my own lab, where you could build who knows what, and with my father’s life, when I’ve seen how easily you could control him if you chose. I’m handing you the keys to the empire and trusting you not to abuse them.”

“Why?” she asked, covering his hand with her own. “Even in Atlantis, they wouldn’t let me build helpers, and if I had to leave the main parts of the city, someone was always with me to make sure I didn’t turn on the wrong thing by accident. And given my luck, I would have. They had every right not to trust me. Why do you?”

“Because I know you. Better than anyone does, except maybe Zeetha.” He rubbed his thumb over her cheekbone. “And because right now, I think you’re the only person in the world who trusts _me_.”

“Tarvek does.”

“But he’s not here telling me his deepest, darkest secrets.”

She smiled. “And a good thing, too, because that means I can do this.” And she kissed him.

Before he could completely lose the plot, there was a knock at the door. “Five minutes, sir,” the guard called.

“I’ll be out shortly,” Gil called back. Then to Agatha, he whispered, “You know, you _could_ take the formula back with you, not wait to hand it off to me.”

She shook her head. “I’m sure he’ll be able to hear the handoff during the exchange. I don’t expect him to be able to fight the Jägers if I order him not to, but he’ll be less likely to resist even mentally if he thinks the formula comes from you and not from me or Tarvek.”

“All right, then. You’d better put the invisibility device on before I open the door.”

“Right. I’ll follow you out and then head for the lab.” With that, she pulled the invisibility device out of her pocket and attached it to her blouse, giving him a brief glimpse of the stylized green-and-silver beetle-shaped object before it lit up and she disappeared.

“That’s amazing.”

“Dual function, too,” came her voice from seemingly thin air. “It was originally designed to emit an energy shield, but they let me make it capable of cloaking as well. Unfortunately, it can’t do both at once.”

“So how does it....”

“ _Later_. I promise.” She kissed his cheek. “Let’s go.”

Since he couldn’t exactly kiss her back, he took a deep breath and stood, went to the closet for the greatcoat pictured in the caricature, and went to the door as he put it on. She stuck close behind him as he left his quarters, but they hadn’t gone far down the hall before he sensed her turn off to go to his lab. He had to force himself to review his lines for the upcoming argument rather than giving any outward sign that he missed her already.

Sure enough, Gil arrived at Bay 15 to find Father already waiting by the airship pictured in the caricature and the gargoyles prepped to accompany him. Father gave Gil two syringes of sedative and strict instructions as to how to bring Agatha back. Gil made all the appropriate noises and somehow managed not to alert Father that he hadn’t been mind-controlled, and finally Father gave him leave to set out for Mechanicsburg and stalked out of the bay.

Gil had only a moment before launch, but that was enough. In a flash, he unbuttoned his collar, slipped the choker around his neck, and fastened his collar again to hide it. Then he had to steady himself against the tiller as the harmonic interference from the locket made his head reel as if he’d just had one of Theo’s cocktails.

Sweet lightning, was this what Agatha had dealt with growing up? No wonder she’d had headaches; no wonder stealing the locket had been the death of Omar von Zinzer. Only the mental disciplines (Skifandrian ones?) Father had taught Gil allowed him to shake off the effects enough to launch safely and steer accurately through the storm toward Mechanicsburg, reviewing his lines again and again as he went. Even so, he had a raging headache of his own by the time he reached the topmost tower of Castle Heterodyne.

It was good that he had a script to follow, because everything that happened from that point until Franz carted him back through the air to Castle Wulfenbach felt surreal and dreamlike, almost as if he _had_ been mind-controlled or was too lost in the madness place to have a firm grasp on reality. Fortunately, Franz had a firm grasp on him—almost too firm, though he didn’t actually hurt Gil—and deposited him safely in an open bay.

“No hard feelings?” Franz asked as Gil got his feet under him. “I mean, since the Mistress likes you and all... if you come back after the battle, I bet she can help you.”

“We’ll see when we get there,” Gil replied. “But no, no hard feelings. And sorry about the sedative.”

“Ah. That’s all right. Wore off fast.” Franz smiled, which was disconcerting on a dragon, and turned his pedal-powered flyer back toward Mechanicsburg.

And as Gil watched, Castle Heterodyne righted its ruined towers and unleashed a swarm of flying clanks and monsters, all of which headed toward Castle Wulfenbach.

Still dizzy from the locket’s effects, he heard himself shouting orders before turning to run—fight his way back to the bridge. Reality slipped and slid around him until, grappling with a clank, he crashed through a floor panel and a ceiling panel and landed a few feet from Father. He managed to smash the clank, dust himself off, and say something moderately coherent to Father... but he wasn’t watching where he was going, and a loose bearing caused his feet to fly out from under him. Dazed, he lay where he fell as Father transferred command to him and left the bridge.

A moment later, an invisible hand felt of his shirt collar. “You weren’t supposed to put it _on!_ ” Agatha squeaked in his ear.

“Hsst!” he managed to hiss.

The syringe case slid into his coat pocket, and she kissed his brow before he heard a slight noise and her presence vanished. A second after that, an airman came over to help him to his feet.

“Are you all right, sir?” the airman asked.

“Just winded,” Gil lied. “What are my father’s orders?”

“He was still issuing them, sir—”

“Retreat?!” Dr. Chouteh’s incredulous booming voice echoed back from the hall. “Craven, ignoble retreat?!”

Gil nodded. “All units fall back to Sturmhalten at once. Castle Heterodyne isn’t playing around; every second we hesitate costs us more lives.”

He could only hope, as the crew began carrying out the order, that putting his trust in Agatha wasn’t about to cost even more than that. 

* * *

  
* Said tune is from Gilbert and Sullivan’s _HMS Pinafore_. 


	12. Part 3, Chapter 3: Exchange

Klaus had all the time in the world for regrets as his drop armor fell toward Mechanicsburg. He hated what he’d done to Gil—what _she_ had _suggested_ , though he was sure his condition couldn’t be transferred and his own consciousness would be capable of defending Gil against the power of her voice. Desperate times, though, and none were more desperate than these, with Lucrezia in possession of Mechanicsburg and her puppet in possession of Klaus. If he played his cards right with this move, he’d keep the empire, keep _Gil_ , out of her hands for good.

He could only hope it would be enough to save the rest of Europa.

Gil would have to be the one to deal with Lucrezia’s puppet. If Klaus couldn’t trust the boy’s judgment, he could trust that of the copy of himself he’d placed in Gil’s mind. And after that, after Europa was free at last and Lucrezia could do no more damage, perhaps Gil would find a way to shut down the stasis bomb Klaus was about to use on Mechanicsburg. The fact that even its inventor, a protégé of Dio Zardilev’s, hadn’t known how to shut it off had given Klaus cause to confiscate it, and only the lack of better non-lethal options prompted him to deploy it now.

This wasn’t suicide. It was temporary. Gil _would_ free him when the time came. They would deal with this version of Lucrezia masquerading as her daughter. And _then_ , perhaps, Klaus could undo what he’d done to Gil without too much damage.

(Zantabraxus would have his head if she knew what he’d done to their son. But then, there was the Skifandrian girl with Lucrezia—had Zantabraxus sent her to find him, or was she an assassin after Gil? Or both?)

His ruminations were cut short, however, as the drop armor shook from the bombardment Castle Heterodyne was sending against it. Klaus needed to devote his full attention to landing safely in front of the Red Cathedral. Once he was down, he heard Gkika growl a challenge, although he couldn’t hear what she said. Bracing himself, he took the stasis bomb in his left hand, lowered the door, and stepped out.

“ _ **FREEZE!**_ ”

Klaus froze in mid-stride, every joint and voluntary muscle locking instantly in response to _that voice_.

No.

_No._

She should be in the cathedral, undergoing the accession rites. She shouldn’t have had _time_ to be out here, be _behind_ him, be able to get past his guard this way. And how could she possibly know what he’d been about to do?

Oddly enough, Gkika looked surprised, too. “Miztress? Vot—”

“I’ll explain later,” said Lucrezia, sounding more like the Agatha Clay persona. “Can you get that thing out of his hand without pressing any buttons?”

“Ho, yah, Hy ken do dot.”

Klaus tried to will his hands to move, to trigger the bomb before Gkika could swipe it away from him, but the effect of the wasp was too strong.

“Ketch!” Gkika teased, tossing the bomb into the air above his head.

Then a death ray whined, and bits of molten metal rained down around him. And a split second later, there was a muffled explosion inside the cathedral just as Tarvek Sturmvoraus appeared among the Jägers with a female Smoke Knight hanging onto his arm with her left hand. Said Smoke Knight was just pulling her right hand away from a brass armband on her left arm, and Sturmvoraus looked totally disoriented.

“What—how—Agatha?” he asked, putting a hand to his head.

“In a minute,” Lucrezia answered. “Mamma, would you mind moving the baron out of the way?”

Gkika obligingly picked Klaus up as if he were no more than a tailor’s dummy and set him off to the side of the drop armor.

“Thank you. I’m really sorry to have to do this, Herr Baron. Uh, **you can blink if you need to** ,” Lucrezia (or was it?) added as she stepped into the drop armor.

Klaus did need to blink and found himself doing so rapidly.

Then his heart sank further as he heard, “Mechanicsburg calling Castle Wulfenbach. This is Lady Agatha Heterodyne. I have the baron. Repeat, _I have the baron_.”

Oh, no. This was swiftly devolving into a very bad plan. Boris ought to know what to do in such an emergency, but—

“I wish to propose an exchange of prisoners.”

Worse and worse.

“Bring Gilgamesh Wulfenbach to the Monsters’ Gate in fifteen minutes... what? Oh, all right, half an hour, then.” What, was she playing at being reasonable? “Baron Wulfenbach is currently incapacitated”—points for tact, though he wasn’t sure why she bothered!—“but he will receive the antidote once the Jägers have escorted him to your side of the field... whereupon I will surrender The Other to the baron’s justice unconditionally.”

... _What?!_

Sturmvoraus clutched his head. “Agatha, what are you doing?!”

“It’s okay,” the Smoke Knight assured him. “It’s not what you’re thinking.”

“Half an hour,” Lucrezia repeated. “We’ll be waiting.” A moment later she emerged from the drop armor and blew the air out of her cheeks—huh. That had looked more like Barry; Lucrezia would never have done that before. In any case, she turned to him apologetically. “I _am_ sorry, Herr Baron. But more than Europa would have been lost if you’d triggered that thing. I couldn’t let you do that.”

He blinked. There was nothing else he could do. (But add another tick to the _capable of time manipulation_ column, if she knew the outcome of the bomb’s use better than the man who’d made it.)

“Agatha, what is going on here?” Sturmvoraus demanded.

“I’ll explain later, I promise,” Lucrezia (Agatha?) replied and turned to the Smoke Knight. “Where’s Krosp?”

“I left him minding the shield emitter,” the Smoke Knight replied. “But he should—”

“Help, help!” cried another young man’s voice from inside the cathedral’s open doors, followed almost immediately by said young man, impeccably dressed and with hair that was blond on top and dark below, running out dragging what looked like another Valois descendant in his arms. “Prince Martellus—he’s been stabbed!”

“I _told_ you,” snarled the cat that was hard on the boy’s heels, “the blade’s poisoned. It’s too late for him.”

Sturmvoraus turned to the Smoke Knight. “Violetta—”

“It’s his own poison and his own fault,” the Smoke Knight—Violetta?—interrupted. “That knife was meant for _you_ , idiot. And he’s probably already dead by now anyway.”

“So what exploded? What shield emitter were you talking about? Why is Agatha out _here_ when I saw Tweedle carry her off in _there_?”

“It is a very long story,” Lu-Agatha? replied in tones that reminded Klaus an awful lot of Bill. “And we have to go back to the castle to get something before the exchange, so if you’ll come with us, I can explain at least part of it. Herr Baron,” she added, turning back to Klaus, “ **you can relax your arms and move your legs to go where the Jägers lead you, but you are not to resist them or attempt to escape.** ”

Something in the back of Klaus’ mind itched, but regaining even a modicum of control over his limbs was a relief. He supposed he should be grateful.

“But my lady,” interjected the young man holding what apparently used to be Martellus von Blitzengaard, “aren’t you going to—”

“No!” Lucrezia snapped. “He tried to kidnap me and murder Tarvek, and he would have done worse than that if he’d had half a chance. Besides, supposedly he’ll start dissolving within thirty minutes, so there’s no point in trying to reverse the poison anyway. Find some way to document his death and dispose of the remains safely. Gen. Gkika, Gen. Goomblast, please escort the baron to the Monsters’ Gate for the exchange; we’ll meet you there momentarily. C’mon, Tarvek.” That last was in English for some reason.

“ _What_ are we going to get?” Sturmvoraus asked Violetta as they followed Lucrezia out of Klaus’ line of sight at a run.

“Monster wagon,” was all Klaus caught of Violetta’s answer.

“Foo,” sighed Zog, scratching his head. “Dot vos krezy.”

“ _Iz_ krezy,” Gkika corrected, taking Klaus by the right arm. “Kestle? Vot hyu know about all dis?”

“I’m not at liberty to say,” the castle’s voice responded from the paving stones. “But have no fear for the Mistress. She’s in no danger, and what I understand of her plan should satisfy even you, Klaus.”

Klaus doubted it, not that he could say so.

Khrizhan nudged Zog and nodded toward the young man who was probably the new seneschal, and they went off to help him deal with von Blitzengaard’s corpse. Goomblast, meanwhile, came over to take Klaus’ left arm, and he and Gkika marched Klaus off toward the Monsters’ Gate.

“Hyu schtill tink Miz Agatha is De Odder, dun hyu?” Goomblast asked Klaus quietly once they were away from the worst of the crowd near the cathedral. “De Odder iz in her hed, yez, und she does hef her mamma’s voice. But Miz Agatha iz not her mamma. Dot Lucrezia, she vould neffer say sorry for ennyting.”

Klaus sighed through his nose. That much was true, certainly. Lucrezia had definitely never apologized for exercising power over anyone, at least that Klaus had heard. And there hadn’t been even any implicit gloating in that radio message to Castle Wulfenbach demanding the prisoner exchange. Nor had she shown any intention of sending him back with instructions that would be detrimental to anyone’s interests, although there could be time enough for her still to do so depending on how quickly she returned from Castle Heterodyne.

(Why _did_ she need a monster wagon? Not for him, surely?)

Klaus wasn’t certain he’d been wrong about the girl, of course. Lucrezia was a good actress and had admitted her identity to him in Sturmhalten only when no one else could overhear, and her puppet had everyone convinced she was Anevka Sturmvoraus. But the Jägers knew him well and knew when they’d made their point, so neither Goomblast nor Gkika said anything more as they completed the trek to the Monsters’ Gate and waited for the rest of the party to arrive.

The crowd, unfortunately, had followed, so the hushed murmur of speculation gradually grew until distant cheering, growing steadily closer, heralded Lucrezia’s progress. Klaus’ condition rendered him unable to turn his head or move his eyes, so he couldn’t see how she arrived behind him, but it sounded like she and Sturmvoraus were riding one of Castle Heterodyne’s tiger clanks—er, Fun-sized Mobile Agony and Death Dispensers—while someone else, presumably Violetta, drove the monster wagon. And when Lucrezia called Goomblast aside for a moment, the cheering drowned out whatever she said to him. But then the cheering died down, and Klaus was able to make out the drone of an approaching airship.

Then she sidled up to him and said quietly, “Herr Baron, I know you don’t trust me, but I have some information you need to remember.”

 _Red fire, here we go_ , Klaus sighed inwardly and braced himself.

“There are two other copies of my mother aside from the one I’m about to turn over to you—at least, that I know of.”

... What?

“One, as you may already know by now, is in the clank claiming to be Tarvek’s sister Anevka.”

Yes, he knew that all too well. He managed the slightest affirmative grunt.

“The other is in my cousin Zola Malfeazium—she was the pink fake who tried to steal the castle from me. Zola’s still in control, apparently, but she has conscious access to my mother’s memories. She was pretty beat up when she left the castle, and I don’t know if she had escaped from the hospital before it was shelled, but it’s probably best to assume she did and be on the lookout for her. She’s a lot more dangerous than she looks.”

He blinked. Was she... _warning_ him? That hadn’t been phrased as a command.

She sighed. “Trouble is, the Geisterdamen got away with the equipment they used to force Mother into _my_ head, so there may be more copies by now that I don’t know about. And I don’t know how to recommend that you test for them. I mean... well. Anyway. I just wanted to warn you.” And while he was still puzzling over the fact that she hadn’t ordered him to do anything, she stepped away and let Goomblast resume his post.

Klaus blinked again and wished he could shake his head. None of this made sense. If Lucrezia wanted her rival selves killed, she could have said so, ordered him to do it for her. But she had always struck him as the sort who thought multiple copies of herself would be a boon to humanity. Was she worried that they’d give him conflicting commands if they all gained access to him? But if so, why hadn’t she given him any sort of overriding command that would prevent such an eventuality? Come to that, she hadn’t given him any commands at _all_ except to remember. Why only warn him and then let him go?

There wasn’t time for him to work it out, however. The Wulfenbach airship finally entered his field of vision and landed about a hundred meters away, and a hush fell over the crowd. The ramp lowered, and Gil walked out, his spine unnaturally straight and his gait too like Klaus’ own for comfort. Bangladesh Dupree, somehow already recovered from her apparent poisoning, and several other members of Klaus’ staff followed Gil off the airship; Dupree was remonstrating with her usual vigor, and Gil... wasn’t reacting at all.

Saints above, had Klaus destroyed his son?

The Wulfenbach contingent reached the road, and Gil evidently ordered the others to stop and wait where they were. Then, at some unspoken signal, Gil started toward town alone while Gkika and Goomblast steered Klaus forward. And as the distance between them diminished steadily, Klaus got an uncomfortably good look at the completely blank, impassive mask his son’s face had become. Gil wasn’t even looking at him, eyes fixed straight ahead as firmly as Klaus’ own.

He couldn’t speak, couldn’t apologize, couldn’t promise to make things better. He couldn’t even turn his head as they passed each other.

—But he _could_ hear a clack and a slight rattle as Gil... handed something to Goomblast? Something metallic, like a tin or... maybe a syringe case. Lucrezia had promised an antidote, but... no, that wouldn’t make sense, would it, for Gil to be bringing the antidote himself?

Klaus was still puzzling over it, and growing annoyed at his inability to frown, when Goomblast said, “Vait,” and they stopped about five meters shy of the Wulfenbach crew. “Ve giff hyu dis now, Herr Baron. Open hees collar, Gkika.”

Klaus managed to take a deep breath, but Gkika was surprisingly gentle as she removed his sigil brooch, tucked it into a pocket of his waistcoat, and unbuttoned his shirt collar and the first few buttons below that. Then she held the fabric aside as Goomblast opened whatever Gil had given him and pressed something round and metallic against the carotid triangle on the left side of Klaus’ neck. Before Klaus had time to brace himself mentally, he heard a hiss, and liquid struck and sank into his skin, into his bloodstream, racing upward with every heartbeat....

... and then _life_ suddenly flared through his body. He could move again, and his mind was completely clear for the first time since Sturmhalten. The wasp’s control was gone.

_She had freed him._

“What—how—” he gasped, looking from Gkika to Goomblast.

“She is de Heterodyne,” Gkika replied, amused.

Klaus spun to see Gil walking up to Lu—Agatha. They spoke to each other, apparently, and embraced each other. After a moment’s hesitation, Sturmvoraus threw his arms around both of them.

“Herr Baron?” Goomblast prompted, and Klaus turned back as Goomblast pocketed the strange syringe and pulled another small device from his other pocket. “De Miztress vants hyu should vatch dis,” he said, handing the device to Klaus.

Warily, Klaus took it and, for lack of another option, pressed the arrow in the center of what looked like a viewscreen, then held it up and out slightly so that Gkika and Goomblast could watch alongside him. Immediately, the interior of someplace that wasn’t Castle Heterodyne appeared, along with several strange men and Agatha. Some of the men were in some kind of uniform, but the image was too small for Klaus to see any sigil patches on their sleeves. One man in a lab coat stood in the foreground and looked straight into whatever recording device had been used.

 _“Hullo, Baron Wulfenbach,”_ the man said with a Scottish accent, and Klaus was unsurprised that what followed was in English. _“My name is Carson Beckett; I’m a medical doctor. I’m afraid I don’t have time to explain where I am or how Lady Heterodyne came to be in my care. But she insisted that you’d need evidence of the procedure we’re about to perform here to remove Lady Mongfish’s presence from her mind.”_

In the background, Agatha waved. She was wearing a black shirtwaist and black trousers in a different style than Klaus had seen anywhere in Europa, similar to the black uniforms of the men around her; but still prominently visible on the choker around her neck was her trilobite locket, the one Barry had put some kind of device into and Boris had reported was keeping Lucrezia’s consciousness suppressed. (Red fire, where had he sent Boris?* Had Lucrezia forced him to murder his best administrator just as she’d ordered him to try to destroy the Vespiary Squad? He’d been operating on the edge of sanity; he couldn’t remember.)

 _“Now, the first steps in this process are classified,”_ Dr. Beckett interrupted Klaus’ train of thought, _“and Lady Heterodyne herself has asked that we not explain them even to her. We’ve just reached the point of performing the separation itself.”_ Dr. Beckett stepped away from the recording device just as Agatha handed her glasses to Violetta.

 _“Are you_ sure _about this, my lady?”_ Violetta asked her quietly in Romanian.

Agatha nodded. _“We have to risk it. It’s the only way.”_ Then as Violetta backed away to stand beside the uniformed men, Agatha squared her shoulders and declared in English, _“I’m ready, Herr Doktor.”_

 _“Right, then, here we go,”_ Dr. Beckett replied.

And after some murmuring out of shot and a brief zap that made Agatha sway, a beam of light swept over her... and she vanished.

 _“That’s it,”_ said another male voice with a Bohemian accent. _“Reading two stable life-signs. Power levels are steady. Rematerializing.”_

The beam of light passed again over the place where Agatha had been standing. But what appeared this time was not one Agatha, but two, one in the same clothing she had been wearing before and the other in a mauve dress Lucrezia would have liked. Klaus’ eyebrows shot up, then down again in concern as both Agathas collapsed.

Dr. Beckett stepped into sight again as a medical team went into action. _“The separation process is taxing, milord, but by the time you watch this recording, both Lady Heterodyne and her mother should be completely fine. And Lady Heterodyne assures me you’ll know what to do once you’ve seen it.”_ He smiled a bit and nodded once, and the recording ended.

Know what to do?

Klaus turned back toward Mechanicsburg to see Agatha reaching through the bars of the monster wagon with another syringe. She pulled her arm back and handed the syringe to Violetta, then signaled the driver—a Mechanicsburger Klaus didn’t recognize—to start driving the monster wagon forward.

Oh. Oh, _of course_. She _had_ promised to hand over The Other.

“Klaus?” Dupree called.

Klaus turned back briefly. “It’s all right, Dupree. Let me handle this.” As he returned his attention to the monster wagon, he added more quietly, “Castle, if you can hear me, have the Torchmen ready to act on my command.”

Three Torchmen immediately rose into the air and hovered above the crowd still lining the walls.

Klaus schooled his features carefully as the wagon driver turned off and stopped the wagon perpendicular to the road. Then, as Klaus approached, the driver came around to unlock the back and help the bound, hooded, mauve-clad woman out. Once she was standing in front of Klaus, the driver removed the hood... and the same face that had gloated over Klaus outside Sturmhalten blinked up at him before breaking into a delighted smile.

“ _Klaus!_ ” Lucrezia cried. “Isn’t it marvelous, darling? I’m _back!_ ”

“So I see,” Klaus replied, returning the smile.

“I’m so glad to see you, and I know **you’re glad to see me.** ” The command was unmistakable—but it triggered no compulsion this time. Whatever antidote Agatha had arranged for Gil to bring Goomblast, it had freed him for good.

He smiled more broadly anyway so as not to let on. “Of course. You have no idea how glad.”

“Be a dear and **untie me** , would you?” She held out her securely-tied hands.

He obligingly drew a dagger from his belt and cut the rope. “There you are, my sweet.”

Her smile brightened. “Always the gentleman. Oh, Klaus, what a fool I was to send you away. I really am glad to see you.” She threw her arms around him—and gasped in shock as he slid the dagger into her heart.

“And I am glad to rid my son, your daughter, and all Europa of you,” he growled. “TORCHMEN! DESTROY!”

As the light went out of Lucrezia’s eyes, the Torchmen sailed over and caught her corpse as he pitched it up to them, their fire immediately engulfing it and reducing it to a pile of ash in moments. Not even Sun would be able to revive her now. The version in the puppet might be safe to interrogate if he removed the head and retuned the voice, but this one... no. Klaus was taking no chances.

Watching the Torchmen return to town, Klaus let his eyes travel down to the gate and felt a pang of remorse when he saw that Agatha’s contingent was still there. But Gil and Sturmvoraus were standing shoulder to shoulder with their backs to him, effectively blocking Agatha’s view of the scene, and he could just barely make out her cowlick sticking up above where she was hiding her face against them. Perhaps she hadn’t had to watch him kill her mother after all.

“What the hell was that?” Dupree demanded, running up beside him.

“That was Lucrezia Mongfish,” Klaus replied, turning to her. “Lady Heterodyne upheld her end of the bargain; she surrendered The Other to my justice. And I believe I owe her an apology,” he added, looking at the Jägers.

“Hit vould help, Herr Baron,” Goomblast conceded.

Dupree stared at him incredulously. “An apology?! After you _killed_ her?!”

Klaus shook his head. “I didn’t kill Agatha Heterodyne. Look.” And he pointed toward the gate, where Gil and Sturmvoraus were breaking ranks to reveal Agatha, swiping at her face with a handkerchief.

Dupree’s jaw dropped. “How the _hell_ —”

“I wish I knew. But now’s not the time to ask.” With that, he squared his shoulders and strode back toward town, Dupree jogging beside him and the Jägers following.

Gil and Sturmvoraus looked at each other in alarm and apparently argued briefly with each other and with Agatha, who put a hand on each boy’s arm before stepping forward alone. And then the Jäger horde came charging around the corner of the city walls—with the Skifandrian girl at their head. Gkika and Goomblast peeled off to intercept the horde, but the Skifandrian raced straight toward Agatha, bright green hair streaming behind her as she ran.

“Ashtara’s _daggers!_ ” she called once she was in earshot. “Agatha, what—”

“It’s all right, Zeetha,” Agatha called back.

Klaus nearly stumbled. _Zeetha._ Red fire, he’d... he’d almost killed his _daughter_ back in Sturmhalten.

Dupree noticed. “Klaus?”

“Not now,” he returned but slowed his pace to give Agatha time to calm things down on her own side.

And calm them she did, though the atmosphere was still very tense by the time Klaus arrived. Zeetha had fallen back to join Gil, Sturmvoraus, and Violetta; the latter two matched her scowl, but Gil’s face was a blank once more. And the Jägers were hanging back but were grumbling audibly, clearly ready to tear Klaus into more shreds than Von Pinn had shredded Punch and Judy if he made one wrong move toward their Heterodyne.

Klaus stopped several meters in front of Agatha, within easy speaking range but still at a respectful distance, and made sure his hands were clearly visible at his sides. “Lady Heterodyne,” he began at a volume he knew would carry, “I regret exceedingly that I have not been fully myself of late, and I apologize for the grave misunderstanding that has led to today’s unpleasantness. I cannot restore the lives that have been lost, but I will make restitution to the city of Mechanicsburg for the destruction I have caused or allowed.”

Agatha nodded once. “I accept your apology, Herr Baron, and request that said restitution be made in the form of assistance with rebuilding.”

“I shall provide that assistance most willingly, and afterward I hope we shall have restored sufficient mutual trust to conduct negotiations regarding the future governance of Mechanicsburg.”

“That is my hope also. Thank you, Herr Baron.”

Klaus nodded back and looked at Gil. “Come, Gilgamesh. We... have private business to discuss.”

Gil’s eyes flashed with sudden fury, but Agatha spoke before he could. “I’m afraid I can’t allow that, Herr Baron. The whole point of this exchange was for your son to become my hostage.”

Klaus frowned. “What do you mean?”

“The peace of Europa and the eradication of The Other’s plans are your highest priority. The safety of Mechanicsburg is mine. Until I can trust that you are satisfied that our goals are not in conflict, Gil is to remain my prisoner. With his help, I hope to be able to provide you a full catalogue of the contents of my mother’s secret lab within a reasonable amount of time. And perhaps you’d be good enough to send down some of his things, especially the contents of his labs, for his use while he is in my custody.”

 _The contents of his labs_ —including Punch and Judy, of course. They were only a day away from being ready to transport to what remained of the hospital. Klaus swallowed hard; he hated to lose the chance to talk with them, to find out what Barry had said that had made them mistrust him so. And he hated to leave Gil in his current state, though... perhaps this Dr. Beckett she had found, whoever and wherever he was, would stand a better chance of undoing the damage Klaus had wrought. Maybe giving Punch and Judy time to digest the news of what had just happened would be to his benefit as well.

Sturmvoraus cleared his throat and stepped forward. “If I might suggest, Herr Baron, that you take me as a hostage of your own, I’m certain that would help to ensure Lady Heterodyne’s good treatment of your son. I do have valuable information about The Other’s plans and her confederates that I will gladly give you while I’m in your custody. And as the High Command can attest, I did render valuable assistance in stopping units that had been subverted by the Knights of Jove while in the empire’s custody this morning.”

Agatha turned to him. “Tarvek, are you sure?”

Sturmvoraus nodded. “Might help draw off anyone else with bright ideas like Tweedle’s, too.”

Klaus sighed. It wasn’t an ideal option, but it was better than many. “If those terms are acceptable to you, Lady Heterodyne?”

“They are,” Agatha replied.

“Then I accept also. I will send the requested items tomorrow.”

“Before you go—Violetta?”

Violetta retrieved a satchel from the tiger clank and drew a rather full portfolio out of it.

“We had some trouble getting this into printed form,” Agatha explained as Violetta brought the portfolio to Sturmvoraus. “And we didn’t have a great deal of time. But these are transcripts of the interrogations we were able to conduct while The Other was in our custody. Of course, there’s not much telling how truthful she was, but....”

Sturmvoraus flipped through the papers and let out a low whistle. “This will help, definitely.”

Klaus nodded. “Excellent. Thank you, Lady Heterodyne.”

She shrugged. “Whatever I can do to help. I want her plans stopped, too.”

Klaus smiled a little, then looked past her to Zeetha. “Look after your brother, my daughter,” he said in Skiff.

Gil frowned, but Zeetha swallowed hard and replied in the same language, “May Ashtara strike me barren if he comes to harm, my father.”

That was an extraordinarily strong oath for a daughter of the Warrior Queen, and Klaus had to fight not to react to it with more than a nod. He really _had_ been a chump the past two weeks. Then he nodded again to Agatha and gestured to Sturmvoraus, who kissed Agatha on the cheek and walked across to join Klaus. And finally, though it took every ounce of self-control he possessed, Klaus turned and led Dupree and Sturmvoraus away from town toward the waiting airship, ignoring the roar of triumph that erupted from the Mechanicsburgers and the Jägers.

A wasp eater kit poked its head out of Sturmvoraus’ pocket. “Kee?” it squeaked.

“Not today,” Klaus replied, and it hid again. “I suppose that means you were able to rescue the Vespers?”

“I did my best,” Sturmvoraus answered evasively.

“I’m glad someone dared.”

“Only fitting, considering the role my family played in causing the Lady Lucrezia’s return. I got as much information out of her as I could while she was in Sturmhalten, but of course I don’t know everything.”

“And the clank version? Was that your doing?”

Sturmvoraus hesitated briefly before replying, “I’ll shut her down for you, Herr Baron.”

“I expected no less.”

“Look, for what it’s worth, I did try to get Agatha out of Sturmhalten unharmed. And I do want to help clean up the mess we’ve caused.”

“You’ll have your chance. But I’m assigning Dupree to guard you.”

“ _Really?_ ” Dupree gasped, plainly delighted. “Thank you, Klaus!”

Sturmvoraus wilted visibly.

“Just tell me one thing now,” Klaus continued as they approached the airship. “How did Lady Heterodyne find time to have her mother extracted from her mind?”

Sturmvoraus sighed and shook his head. “She didn’t really explain much. She only told me it happened ‘a long time from now in a galaxy far, far away.’ And Violetta laughed like it was some kind of joke.”

Frowning, Klaus looked back toward town, but the Jägers were crowded around the gate so thickly that he couldn’t see whether Gil and Agatha were still there. “I wonder,” he murmured.

* * *

* I wrote this aside several weeks before Boris’ triumphant return to canon, but I’m leaving it in as a token of just how messed up Klaus was at the time. (Plus, as of this writing, we still don’t know where Boris has been for the duration of the time skip.) 


	13. Part 3, Chapter 4: Closing the Loop

As the Jägers crowded around to congratulate Agatha on essentially sending Father away with a flea in his ear, Agatha stepped back and slipped her left hand into Gil’s right. Then, after exchanging a couple of nods and winks with a Jäger Gil didn’t quite recognize, she slapped the circle of lights in the center of her armband—and suddenly they were on the opposite side of town, alone. With a mutual sigh of relief, they turned to each other.

“We did it,” they chorused.

“Collar,” she ordered, dropping his hand and pulling a small screwdriver out of her belt.

He reached up and unbuttoned his collar. “That thing is amazing,” he said, nodding at the armband, the lights of which had turned red.

“We’ve got a couple of minutes while it recharges. Here.” She flipped open the locket and pried a cog out of the works.

Immediately, the pounding headache he’d given himself vanished, and he groaned and put a hand to his head. “Oh, that really was a bad idea, but I’m actually not sorry. It did keep me off balance—and now I understand what it did to you. How long....”

“I was five,” she admitted, tucking the cog and the screwdriver back into her belt.

“You lived with that for _thirteen years?!_ ”

“It was a gift from Uncle Barry. I didn’t know any better.”

“And now, with Lucrezia gone?”

She opened her own locket to show him that the clockwork had been removed before she closed both hers and his. He didn’t know what to say, so he pulled her into a tight hug, which she returned, and buried his face in her shoulder, relishing the sensation of their hearts beating perfectly in time with each other. Why it should still be so this long after the Si Vales Valeo, he had no clue, but he wasn’t going to complain.

“Will you stay?” she whispered in his ear. “Will you be mine?”

His breath caught as he realized what she was asking. But just as suddenly, he realized his answer and decided to preface it by kissing the part of her nearest his mouth, which happened to be the side of her neck.

She inhaled sharply. “ _Gil, not now!_ ”

“I’m not leaving,” he vowed. “I love you. I love your town. I love your people. I even love your crazy castle.”

“I prefer eccentric,” the castle interjected from the wall behind them.

He ignored it. “And even if, by some miracle, Father doesn’t disown me, we can rule Europa together from here just as well as we could from the air. But by all that’s holy, I am not leaving you now. I can’t lose you again.”

“Oh, my love,” she sighed happily and hugged him even more tightly. After they’d held each other for a moment longer, she asked, “How soon will my parents be out of bed?”

“Hard to say. Maybe a week or two.”

“In that case, we won’t wait. There should be enough commotion in the cathedral square tonight to cover us; the only trick will be distracting Violetta so she can’t send Tarvek a message your father can intercept.”

Even though he’d suggested eloping himself, twice, her statement still caught him off guard. “Tonight?” he echoed, backing away slightly.

She nodded, then looked past him at the wall. “Heterodyne secret.”

“Very good, Mistress,” the castle replied.

He frowned. “Secret?”

“Only until he comes back to request your release,” she qualified, looking him in the eye, “or until something else happens that we need to announce it. I don’t want him questioning your judgment or mine right now. But you’re right; we can’t give him time to change his mind. And I can’t lose you again, either.”

He kissed her tenderly. She kissed him back.

The castle cleared its virtual throat. “Your teleportation device appears to be recharged, Mistress, and the crowd is beginning to grow restive. I should aim to appear by the statue of the Heterodyne Boys, if I were you.”

She sighed, and he stepped back to button his collar. “All right,” she said. “Thank you, Castle. Ready?”

“Let’s party, Lady Heterodyne,” he returned with a grin.

She grinned back, took his hand again, and teleported them to the base of the Heterodyne Boys statue, much to the delight of the crowd. And then the two of them were swept up in the general mayhem of feasting and merry-making, though quite wisely no one tried to separate them.

By midnight, Agatha had managed to collect Zeetha and her boyfriend Axel Higgs, Theo and Sleipnir, Agatha’s seneschal Vanamonde von Mekkhan, and an assortment of Jägers, as well as Violetta and Krosp. The tourists were drunk and the townspeople were headed that way, and the various town bands had given way to the Hofbräu band from Mamma Gkika’s. So at a signal from Agatha, most of her Jägers caught Violetta’s attention and started asking her about how she’d overpowered von Blitzengaard, and Mamma Gkika and the rest of Agatha’s group made a break for the cathedral.

Inside, Dr. Yglyn, the curate, was dithering at the candlelit altar. “Do forgive me, Lady Heterodyne,” he said as the group approached. “The abbess ought to be here to witness, but she was _tragically_ killed in that _horrid_ explosion—”

Krosp had a hairball, and Gil fought a smirk. He’d overheard enough of Moloch von Zinzer holding forth to Othar Tryggvassen about the abbess’ true loyalties to be able to deduce precisely why she’d been caught in the explosion that had destroyed the portal in the crypts and had also, he assumed, sealed the rift between universes.

“It’s quite all right, Father,” Agatha assured him as her secretary slipped into the candlelight from another direction, carrying what Gil suspected was the parish register. “Van tells me I’ve brought enough witnesses for the marriage to be valid under empire law despite our not waiting for the banns.”

Dr. Yglyn wrung his hands and huffed. “Well, all right. I presume you want the reduced rite your father chose and not the Old Mechanicsburg rite that was in use in your grandfather’s time?”

“Definitely,” Gil and Agatha chorused.

“Very well. The Church frowns on human sacrifice these days anyway.”

Gil’s skin crawled. But then, he _had_ known what he was getting into, agreeing to marry the Heterodyne. It was just easy to forget that such pagan rites had been practiced within living memory here in Mechanicsburg—in fact, it had been Bill and Barry who’d put a stop to them. Apparently some of the older folks still didn’t understand why.

“I think the Eucharist will be quite enough, thank you,” Agatha stated, looking rather disturbed herself.

The ceremony was far shorter than a standard wedding Mass, with a few Heterodyne quirks thrown in, like Gil having to give a hair sample to record his identity in the cathedral’s systems. And they forwent the formality of rings, which Dr. Yglyn allowed as soon as he saw that they were wearing matching chokers anyway. But they did have the vows and the Eucharist, and everyone signed the register and the marriage certificate, at which point Zeetha explained exactly what she and Father had said to each other before Father had left. So when they all left the cathedral around 12:30, Gil found himself the slightly stunned but duly acknowledged Prince Consort of Mechanicsburg.

To his very great relief, the castle did not ring the Doom Bell. The sound had been beautiful that morning, announcing as it did then that Agatha had taken the castle; but after all that had happened and nearly happened, Gil wasn’t quite sure he could take it twice in one day.

“Hyu okeh, Master Gil?” Mamma Gkika asked as Agatha went off to collect her honor guard and Violetta.

Gil took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah, I... it’s just... been a really long day.”

She pulled him into a side hug and patted his face gently with her free hand. “Velcome home, kiddo.”

He smiled. “Thanks, Mamma.”

“Sorry to drop that news on you this way, brother,” Zeetha said, coming up beside him. “I thought you’d have figured it out by now.”

“Well, I _have_ been a little busy,” Gil replied, rubbing the back of his neck as Mamma Gkika let go of him. “And it’s not your fault Father never tells me anything about myself except under extreme duress. I do have a lot of questions for you, though— _after_ you get well.”

“Oh, don’t you start!” she complained as Higgs chuckled. “ _I’m_ supposed to look after _you!_ ”

“Hyu ken’t do dot until hyu heal op,” Mamma Gkika retorted. “Hyu come vit me und rest tonight like a goot girl, und mebbe Hy let hyu hef breakfast in der kestle vit de Master und Miztress.”

Zeetha rolled her eyes. “They probably won’t even be _awake_ for breakfast.”

“Vell, denn, voteffer meal dey vant. Dey ken send for hyu. Bot hyu von’t go ennyvere until hyu rest.”

Gil turned to the man who was probably not the loyal Wulfenbach airman he claimed to be. “Higgs?”

“I’ll look after her, sir,” Higgs promised.

Zeetha huffed. “Oh, all right. I should probably give Agatha the morning off anyway, since it’s her wedding night and we’ve already wasted half of it.”

“Oh, _thanks_ ,” Gil jabbed.

“Hey, someone has to make sure she keeps up with her training!”

“Somehow I suspect she’ll have some surprises for you in that regard.” Not that Agatha had said anything much about her time in Atlantis on that subject—or any other, for that matter—but Gil had noticed that her arms had felt stronger when she’d hugged him.

Zeetha looked at him oddly, but then Agatha came back with Violetta, and it was time to go. Mamma Gkika and Higgs herded Zeetha off to Mamma’s bar; von Mekkhan needed a few days yet to prepare to move into the castle; Theo and Sleipnir had decided to go back to their room at the inn for at least one more night; and Krosp wanted to do some mimmoth hunting and perhaps start assembling his harem. So only Violetta and the three Jägers Agatha had named as her honor guard accompanied Gil and Agatha back to the castle and into the bedroom wing. To keep up appearances, however, Agatha put Gil in the bedroom next to hers, and he bade her good night and went into his room while she tried to convince Violetta to sleep somewhere else.

With a sigh, still trying to get his head around what had happened that day, Gil took off his greatcoat and started preparing for bed. He’d just gotten his boots off, however, and had his shirt halfway unbuttoned when the castle said, “The Mistress calls for you, Master Gil.”

“Oh. Uh....” Gil started to rebutton his shirt.

“No, no, there’s no need for that.”

“I can hardly go out in the hall half dressed!”

“No need for that, either, especially since Miss Violetta is still out there. If I may direct your attention to the dresser? Five stones above the top and four from the right end.”

“It won’t shock me, will it?” he asked, walking over to the dresser.

The castle scoffed. “Please. I _do_ know how to look after my lady’s consorts. Incidentally, although the Mistress has chosen not to announce your marriage, I will need a blood sample for my records—but that can wait for a more opportune time.”

“Thanks.” Warily he pressed the specified stone and was relieved when all that opened was a secret door in the wall between his room and Agatha’s. He looked through to see her sitting on the edge of a gigantic bed, setting aside her own boots.

Suddenly, he felt unaccountably shy. Granted, he’d spent his college years hanging around in Parisian nightclubs, but he’d never _done_ anything with those girls. And that was a far cry from entering a lady’s boudoir at night... even though, in this case, the lady was now his wife.

Before he could duck out of sight, however, she looked up and saw him. “Hi,” she whispered and smiled at him.

“Hi,” he whispered back.

“Come on in.”

Swallowing hard, he did so while she looked down at the teleportation device with a frown of concentration. Its lights went out, and what had looked at first like merely decorative bands retracted to allow the entire armband to relax and unroll like a strip of fabric.

“Fascinating,” he said as she took it off and laid it on the nightstand. “A mental power switch?”

“Yes, but it only works for people who have a certain inherited trait. Dr. Beckett showed me how to test for that trait, though, and I was already planning on testing everyone in the castle to see if anyone else has it. You and Zeetha probably do, but it would be good to know if someone else does.”

He nodded. “See if it correlates to having noble blood or not, and whether strength of expression is affected by the Spark.”

“Exactly. And if Van has it, that may give me a way to increase the security of the castle’s controls so it can’t be hijacked by someone like Prof. Tiktoffen again.” She took off her glasses. “But we can talk more about all that tomorrow.”

He sat down beside her. “Um. You know, I... I don’t think I ever said thank you.”

She blinked at him. “For what?”

“Rescuing me. Saving Tarvek and me during the Si Vales Valeo. For...” He sighed. “For putting up with me. Marrying me. Choosing me over Tarvek.”

“Well, I had time to think in Atlantis, and I had some good friends to talk to. That helped me figure things out. And seeing you both again this afternoon helped, too. I mean, I still care about Tarvek, but....”

“But?”

She scooted closer and put her head on his shoulder. “He loves me because I’m the Heterodyne girl. You loved me when I was only Agatha Clay. He trusted me when he had nothing to lose. You trusted me when you had everything to lose.”

“Well, how could I not? You’re a _spark_. You’re the first girl I’ve ever met who’s actually smarter than me. We can talk about things, really talk, and... you have really great ideas that work, and... and....” He floundered, unsure whether to bring up _that moment_ or even how to put it into words.

“Gil?” she interrupted.

“What?”

“Are you going to kiss me or not?”

His mouth went dry. “Um. A-Agatha, are... are you sure you want to do this?”

“Quite sure.”

“Do... do you need to... I mean... take precautions or... I-I hear there’s a tea....”

She shook her head. “If I get pregnant, we can announce the marriage. Really, it’s not a problem. Besides, even if you weren’t technically my hostage, it’s not like I want to run right off and go adventuring again. Mechanicsburg needs me to stay here; your father probably needs me to stay here; my parents need me to stay here; and I’m really looking forward to just being home for a while. I mean, I’ve been on the road ever since we left Beetleburg. I haven’t traveled this much since Uncle Barry left me there with Adam and Lilith. Even in Atlantis, there was always somewhere I needed to go every few days, and I was stuck on a spaceship for three whole weeks. And I’ve brought back so much information to share with you, to study more myself, so many ideas I couldn’t try there. I just want to spend time in my own labs, my own castle, my own town. With my own _family_.”

“Okay. I just... don’t want to make you give up anything, treat you like any other _Hausfrau_ whose only cares are children, church, and kitchen.”

Her eyes snapped with green fire. “I am not my mother. I will not treat my children as an inconvenience.”

Somehow that was exactly what he needed to hear. He kissed her... and then some. And after an appropriate interval, she reciprocated. The physical act of union wasn’t a patch on what they’d had during the Si Vales Valeo, of course, but it was good— _very_ good—in its own right and probably the closest they could come to their souls touching again without resorting to some very risky ideas in the lab. Maybe with repeated practice, they could get even closer. Maybe conceiving a child would be better still.

The great thing was, they were married. They could carry on this experiment for the rest of their lives. And that was just fine by him.

When at last they lay still, curled up together in the middle of the bed, his blood fizzing in a way he suspected wasn’t totally normal, she sighed happily. “ _That_ was worth coming home for.”

“Mm,” he agreed with a sleepy smile and brushed her hair out of her face. “Glad you did.” And then a sobering thought occurred to him. “Agatha... what happened to that other version of you? The one that went through the portal this time, before Krosp blew it up?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

* * *

A world away, as the creature pretending to be the goddess Ishtar dragged a besotted Martellus off to make him her consort _du jour_ , that other Agatha was still struggling to make sense of what she’d learned in the hours since she’d woken on what was apparently a different, hostile planet. Rosha, the friendly woman who’d attended Agatha and kept the other servants from taking her locket, had tried to explain what had happened in the days she’d been asleep; evidently Violetta had been killed and reanimated once, but Martellus had been through the process ten times in three days, rendering him far more susceptible to brainwashing when their group was presented to Ishtar as tribute by the locals. Precisely what Ishtar had meant by her promise, or threat, to make Agatha the “host” for one of her daughters and to make Violetta that daughter’s First Prime was more than Agatha could work out, however—and she didn’t want to stick around to learn the explanation.

While Rosha took charge of the cage holding Krosp and the wasp eater, her friend Martouf gave some kind of order to Ishtar’s other servants. Rosha motioned for Agatha and Violetta to remain kneeling before the ring-shaped _chappa’ai_ portal device, and everyone but the six of them left the room.

Martouf waited several seconds after the others had left before turning to the ladies. “Clear,” he said in what sounded like English.

Rosha brought Agatha’s glasses out of a fold in her robe and handed them to Agatha. “We must move quickly.”

“I feel naked without my weapons,” Violetta groused as Agatha slid her glasses on. “Are you sure we have no time to go back for them?”

Martouf raised one sandy eyebrow. “You care more for your weapons than for your cousin?”

“Considering that we are here only because he kidnapped me,” Agatha replied, “I have no problem leaving Martellus to Ishtar. And considering that he probably killed one of my suitors, whom I actually _liked_ , I really do not care what happens to him. At all.”

“Hear, hear,” Violetta agreed, helping Agatha to her feet.

“And then some,” Krosp added.

The wasp eater sneezed.

“That is good,” said Rosha, “because we have no time to rescue him, either.”

While she went to press a code onto a device next to the _chappa’ai_ , Martouf drew a bomb out of his robe, set it, and stuck it to the side of the _chappa’ai_ itself. Rosha activated the portal and ran through, still carrying the cage, and Martouf herded Agatha and Violetta through after her. They emerged outside on a stretch of desert, and Rosha set down the cage and opened it before Martouf swept her into a passionate kiss. Feeling awkward, Agatha turned to study the _chappa’ai_ , to see if she could figure out how it worked.

“A _hem_ ,” said Krosp. “Not to pry, but is there any chance of our going back after the bomb goes off so we can work out how the hell we got here?”

“I am afraid return is impossible,” Martouf replied, releasing Rosha.

“Now, by impossible, do you mean dangerous or....”

“Not possible.” To demonstrate, Martouf went to the dialing device and pressed a different code followed by the activation button in the center, but the portal didn’t form. “Of course, we cannot yet be certain whether the _chappa’ai_ was in fact destroyed or merely buried by the explosion, but the bomb did contain sufficient naquadah to have destroyed the _chappa’ai_ itself.”

Agatha’s jaw dropped.

Wide-eyed, Violetta asked, “H-how far would Martellus....”

“Not far enough,” Rosha answered. “But it would have been a quick death, far preferable to being enslaved by the Goa’uld.”

“But... but... that was our only clue!” Agatha blurted out. “How are we supposed to return to Earth now?!”

Before anyone could respond, there was an odd noise a short distance away, and a series of rings—similar in design to the _chappa’ai_ , but smaller and stacked to form a vertical column—shot up from the sand. Light flashed within them, and then they disappeared into the sand again, revealing an older lady dressed in the same manner as Rosha and Martouf.

“Lantash, Jolinar,” the lady said, her voice distorted like Ishtar’s. “I am glad to see you safely returned.”

Rosha and Martouf bobbed their heads, then bowed. “Greetings, Selmak,” said... well, if Rosha had told the truth, that was Martouf’s symbiote Lantash speaking with Martouf’s distorted voice. Agatha still didn’t quite understand the situation, only that these aliens were called Tok’ra, even though they sounded like Goa’uld.

“You have had success?” the lady—Selmak—asked.

“We have,” answered Rosha’s symbiote Jolinar. “A flyby of the planet might still be in order, but unless Ishtar brought with her some form of teleportation device, she is dead.”

“Excellent. And who are these that you have brought?”

“Agatha of Mechanicsburg and her servant Violetta. They are of the people of the Tau’ri. But,” Jolinar added quickly when Selmak gasped, “they do not know how they came to Ishtar’s planet. What they have described sounds more like a quantum mirror than the _chappa’ai_.”

“I had never seen one of these until half an hour ago, Madame Selmak,” Agatha confirmed, gesturing toward the _chappa’ai_. “We were kidnapped, but... something must have gone wrong with the device.”

Selmak looked at her narrowly. “I see. And the one who kidnapped you?”

“Ishtar took him as her consort moments before we left to come here.”

“Look, he is dead, and good riddance,” Violetta exploded. “Yes, he was my cousin, but he was no better than the rest of my horrible family. But that does not change the fact that we have no way to go home!”

Agatha put a hand on Violetta’s shoulder. “If you please, Madame Selmak, I am a scientist, an engineer. I am willing to offer you my service if you will allow me and my companions to stay with you.”

Selmak frowned. “There are others?”

“Hi,” said Krosp.

“Dook,” said the wasp eater.

Jolinar bobbed her head. “There is more,” Rosha said. “Agatha bears a device suppressing a second consciousness that was forced into her mind. Its presence is not physical, like the Goa’uld, but from what I have heard, this Lucrezia is very much like the System Lords in her temperament.”

Agatha couldn’t suppress a shudder.

Selmak hummed thoughtfully. “Perhaps we can remove the second consciousness without harming the host.”

“I would be very grateful,” Agatha replied.

“And perhaps the device itself will provide ideas we can adapt for our own use. It is said the Tollan possess technology that forces the Goa’uld to share control with the host. We may be able to use something similar to help hosts we rescue until the Goa’uld can be removed.”

“I would be glad to aid you in this way. I mean, if... if we truly cannot go home, then... well, given what Rosha tells me of the System Lords, I want to do whatever I can to help you stop them. And in turn, I hope to learn a great deal from you.”

Selmak nodded slowly. “Understand, Agatha of Mechanicsburg. If we accept you, you and your companions will not be allowed to leave us.”

“I do understand. And we have nowhere else to go.” Agatha hated the thought of leaving Mechanicsburg to its fate, losing Tarvek, losing _Gil_... but she could mourn later. There really wasn’t any choice.

Selmak bobbed her head. “Do not be afraid, my child,” said the host kindly. “My name is Saroosh, and I have lived among the Tok’ra almost all my life. They are good people, and I agree with Rosha and Selmak that we can find help for you here.”

Agatha managed a smile. “That is good to hear.”

“Come, then. I am sure the High Council will wish to hear your tale.”

Krosp chuckled. “Somehow I doubt you Tok’ra know much about Heterodyne stories.”

At that, the plots of half a dozen of Agatha’s favorite Heterodyne Boys books flashed through her mind. How many had been true and how many hadn’t, she might never know. But her father and uncle had gotten into more real scrapes even worse than this and somehow come out okay. Uncle Barry had even survived fighting The Other and kept Agatha alive in the process. The Goa’uld might be creepy, as awful as slaver wasps, but she? She was the Heterodyne. Evildoers didn’t have a prayer.

“Let us go write our own, then, shall we?” she asked with a smirk and led the others after Saroosh to the platform with the rings that would take them off on their new adventure.


End file.
